


And Babysitter Makes Three

by AbhorrentSelkie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babysitter Sylvain, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Dimivain, Single Dad Felix, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Unhealthy Relationships, background Claude/Hilda, background dimidue, ish, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentSelkie/pseuds/AbhorrentSelkie
Summary: It hadn't exactly been Felix's plan to be a single father to a five-year-old daughter at twenty-three, but things don't always end up the way you want them to. But, they're getting by. They have their decent little two-bedroom apartment in New York, and Felix's marketing job comfortably pays the bills.When Felix finds himself in sudden need of a babysitter, Glenn so helpfully suggests his boyfriend's brother, a guy Felix has never met and knows nothing about. Felix is reluctant, but the guy seems nice enough... surely, one night won't hurt anything.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Glenn Fraldarius/Miklan
Comments: 39
Kudos: 203





	1. Help Wanted

Felix sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before taking a deep breath and returning his attention to the road. “Glenn,” he said evenly to the empty car, his brother silent on the other end of the phone call playing over the car’s bluetooth, “you _said_ you could do it.”

“I know, man. I already said I’m sorry.”

“I asked you _four times_ if you were sure you were free on Saturday.”

“You know I can’t remember shit,” he protested indignantly. Felix sighed, because he _did_ know that, and because it wasn’t something that could be helped, and because Felix felt like an asshole for blaming Glenn for things beyond his control. “Look, I fucked up. I get it. I’m sorry.”

Felix huffed again, gunning it at a yellow light and narrowly avoiding its change to red as he sped through. “Yeah, well, _sorry_ can’t babysit on Saturday, now can it?” Ever since Annette got her new job, her work hours had become sporadic and Felix lost his regular babysitter. For the past two weeks, he’d been desperately scrounging for anyone who was willing on any given day while he looked for a replacement.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so damn picky, you would have found someone by now,” Glenn shot back, pulling Felix from his silent glowering.

“Fuck off,” he barked, even though he knew Glenn was right. “You want to decide who’s a good enough babysitter, have your own damn kid. But I’ll decide who’s taking care of mine.”

“And that will be…?” Felix didn’t answer, just glared at the road, fingers tight around the steering wheel. “That’s what I thought. Now, I want you to hear me out-”

“Oh, god,” Felix sighed. When was it ever a good thing to hear that?

“I already found someone who’s willing to babysit.”

“I’m not going to like it, am I?”

“Probably not,” Glenn admitted, and Felix could practically hear his smirk. “Miklan’s brother-”

“No.”

“You don’t even know the guy, Fe.”

Felix scowled. “He’s related to Miklan. That’s all I need to know.” It was no secret that there was no love lost between Felix and his brother’s asshole boyfriend, Miklan Gautier. But Glenn was stubborn and refused to acknowledge that his boyfriend was a dick, no matter what Felix did to try and convince him. He doubted that anyone sharing the same genes and upbringing as Miklan would be a very stellar person.

“Mik says he’s great with kids,” Glenn assured him. “I guess they have, like, a shit ton of cousins, and their mom would always volunteer his brother to babysit when they were growing up.” Felix was silent. He tried to imagine a guy who looked like Miklan _not_ scowling at a happy child, and failed. “I’ll remind you your options are pretty lacking right now.”

“What’s he like?” Felix conceded.

“Charming is a word,” Glenn laughed. “Actually, pretty hot too, but don’t tell Mik I said that.” Charming was definitely not a word Felix – nor Glenn, for that matter – would ascribe to Miklan, what with his unfortunate case of resting bitch face and his loud, crass nature. And, you know, generally being an asshole at every conceivable opportunity. So, maybe this guy wouldn’t be _entirely_ like his brother… “He’s about your age, too, I think.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to set me up with a babysitter, or a date?”

“Eh… mostly the babysitter, but I won’t complain either way.” If looks could kill, Felix would have murdered about a dozen unsuspecting pedestrians. Glenn, who knew Felix all too well, went on. “Stop making the grumpy face, and think about it. You’ve still got a couple days. I’m sure he’d agree to meeting up so you can see for yourself that he’ll be fine to babysit for one day.”

He glanced into the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of the empty car seat strapped behind the passenger seat, and he relented. “Fine. Text me his number.”

He hung up without fanfare, cursing under his breath at no one as he pulled into the parking garage of the company he worked for. Familiar faces gave him a wide breadth on the way to the elevator, as people tended to do when Felix was in ‘a mood,’ as Annette liked to call it.

“Oh, someone’s grumpy today,” the familiar voice of one of Felix’s coworkers, a chipper and hardworking woman named Leonie, noted as Felix took a seat at his desk. Their office was divided into several cubicles, each housing three desks. Felix and Leonie shared their space with probably the nicest person Felix had ever met, a silver haired man named Ashe who liked to bring them homemade goodies from time-to-time, and sometimes they weren't even sweets so Felix would actually enjoy them. “What is it this time?”

“My brother has the memory of a goldfish,” he huffed, dropping his messenger bag onto the floor with a thud. “He told me two weeks ago that he’d be able to babysit this Saturday, but now he can’t because he forgot that he scheduled a bunch of his doctors appointments on that day.”

“Oof.” Leonie offered a sympathetic smile. “You know, if you need a babysitter-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. He hated to bother his coworkers asking for favors. Maybe it was pride. Maybe not. Either way, he hadn’t asked for anything from them in the year he’d been with the company, and he wasn’t about to start. And he certainly wasn’t going to start by asking that they give up their entire Saturday for his sake.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve already got someone who said they were willing to help.”

“Oh, good.” She stared at him for a moment while he started up his computer. “But, seriously, if you ever need anyone-”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed, only realizing a second later that it might have been a bit harsh. Leonie wasn’t easily offended, but that didn’t mean Felix could be an ass. “I appreciate the offer.” He glanced up, and Leonie didn’t look put out, so he assumed things were all good. A moment later, his phone pinged with a text.

> **Glenn** : Sylvain Gautier (212)555-0165

Felix stared at it for a moment. It was going on eight-thirty. Was that too soon to text this guy and get it over with? Should he wait until around noon? With a sigh, he decided _fuck it_ and started a new message.

> **M** **e** : Is this Sylvain Gautier?

Felix put his phone off to the side and started working. It was almost an hour and a half before he got a reply.

> **(212)555-0165** : That depends who’s asking ;)

Felix rolled his eyes. So far, this guy wasn’t off to a very impressive start. But, Felix gritted his teeth and texted him back. He really did need a babysitter, lest he have swallow his pride and resort to bumming favors from his coworkers.

> **M** **e** : I’m Felix Fraldarius. Glenn’s brother. He told me you said you offered to babysit my daughter on Saturday. Is that still the case?
> 
> **(212)555-0165** : Oh! Yeah, I’m still happy to help if you need me :D
> 
> **M** **e** : Would you be willing to meet some time before Saturday? I’m not sure I’d be comfortable leaving her with a complete stranger.
> 
> **(212)555-0165** : Makes total sense. I can meet up basically whenever. Today, tomorrow, Friday, whatever works for you :)

Felix hesitated. What, did the guy not have a job? Not that Felix was judging. From what Felix knew about Miklan’s family, he wouldn’t have been too surprised, though. And what was with the stupid smiley faces? Was he grown man or a teenage girl? Or was Felix maybe just nitpicking, looking for any excuse to dislike the guy before he even met him?

> **M** **e** : Tomorrow at six?
> 
> **(212)555-0165** : Sounds good. Just let me know where.

Felix texted Sylvain his address and got back to work.

~OoO~

The next day passed just as agonizingly slowly the day before had. Like on all Thursdays, Felix worked until five. Today, that mean leaving Glenn to pick up his daughter from kindergarten and drop her off after Felix got home.

While Felix’s schedule was actually quite accommodating to his needs – Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays he worked in the office from 9-2, then remotely from home as long as he needed; Tuesdays and Thursdays were 9-5, requiring someone to pick his daughter up from school and watch her for a couple hours until he got home – he hadn’t quite realized just how much he relied on Annette being available at the drop of a hat. And then things like Saturday would come up, where he was needed for a bunch of pointless meeting, ones whose entire content could just as effectively be relayed through a series of emails if the boss wasn’t an old-fashioned geezer set in his ways.

Felix made it home at five-thirty, half an hour before Sylvain was supposed to get there. Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The answers he’d gotten during their text exchange hadn’t sounded anything like Miklan, and Glenn had called him charming…

Despite his reluctance, he tried to keep an open mind as he started on dinner, throwing a couple breaded pork chops in the oven and rummaging through the cupboard for a can of green beans and a packet of mashed potatoes. Felix was, perhaps, not the best cook, but he’d picked up a couple tips from Ashe over the past year of working with him. It was edible, at very least.

At a quarter to six, a knock on the door froze Felix’s hand where he whisked the potatoes. If it were Glenn, he would let himself in with his key. Felix turned down the burner and went to answer the door.

He wasn’t prepared for the man standing on the other side of the door. Sylvain Gautier – because he was unmistakably related to Miklan – was just a little taller than Felix, his fiery hair styled and gelled to be perfectly disheveled. His shoulders were broad, and Felix could see the hint of lean muscle under his expensive t-shirt, designed with some abstract geometric shapes and a logo for a brand Felix was unfamiliar with. He was all easy smiles and confidant grace, sharp hazel eyes flicking up and down Felix as they stood in silence for a moment. Simply put: the dude was pretty hot.

“Felix?” he asked with a lopsided smile, clearly already knowing the answer, and he offered out a hand. Felix shook it, nodding stiffly. “Thought so. You look just like your brother.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Sylvain made a face, just for a second before it fell back into that disarming smile. “Sorry I’m a little early.”

“It’s fine.” Neither spoke for a moment, before Felix realized they were just standing in the door way, staring like idiots. “Uh… come in.” He stepped aside to let Sylvain pass by, catching just the slightest hint of some spicy, dark cologne. Sylvain followed Felix as he returned to the dinner he’d left cooking.

“Nice place,” Sylvain noted, eyeing the sparse décor and the various Barbie dolls and My Little Ponies that littered the floor. He took a seat at one of the three chairs set around the small kitchen table as Felix opened the oven to check on the pork chops. “Ooh, something smells good.”

“Pork chops,” Felix explained lamely. They weren’t quite ready. He moved the finished potatoes and green beans off the burners and sat across from Sylvain, neither speaking.

Sylvain leaned back in his chair, flashing another lopsided grin. “You know, when Glenn said his little brother was a single dad, you’re not quite what I was picturing.”

Felix arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. What’s a single dad supposed to look like, then?”

Sylvain blinked, smile slipping, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Huh… You know, that’s a good point.” He grinned again, flashing a quick wink. “Guess I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

Felix cleared his throat, not sure at all what to make of this guy. Was he flirting? Was he just like this? _Charming is a word_ , Glenn had said. It certainly fucking was a word. “So… uh. Glenn said you used to babysit a lot.”

“Oh, yeah. My little cousins, mostly. Or the kids of my older cousins.” He sighed. “My mom would volunteer to babysit, then dump them off on me to go get her nails done. They kept not dying, so Mom kept doing it.” He laughed, but it cut short in his throat when he caught sight of Felix’s unimpressed glare. “Um. I mean, I was actually pretty good at it. Kids are… cool.”

Felix laughed a little, despite himself. It was funny, watching the guy realize he’d said something dumb and then flounder to try and fix it. Charming, indeed. “So, I paid my regular babysitter-”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” Sylvain dismissed. “I don’t need the money.”

Felix stared at him. “Didn’t Glenn tell you it’s going to be all day?”

“Yeah. Nine to eight, right?”

“Right. That’s a long time to be watching someone else’s kid and not getting paid for it.”

Sylvain shrugged, grinning again. “Call it a favor.”

“I’d rather owe someone money than a favor,” Felix grumbled.

“I’m not expected a favor in return,” Sylvain laughed. “Well, not from you. Miklan, definitely.”

Felix hesitated. He wasn’t usually one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he couldn’t help but wonder why someone would actually turn down getting paid when it was offered. An attractive guy giving up his entire Saturday to babysit a stranger’s kid? His questions, however, died in his throat when the sound of the door opening drew their attention.

A small, pigtailed head poked around the corner, the midnight blue curls bouncing around her shoulders as she walked. “Daddy,” she grumbled, crossing her arms in the way she _definitely_ didn’t learn from Felix, not at all, “when can I get my ears pierced?”

Felix sighed, the corners of his lips tugging up. Usually, she got like this after spending time in Glenn’s shop, meaning he’d probably gone back to work after picking her up from school. “When you turn twelve, and not a day before,” he reminded her.

“Told you,” Glenn called, appearing around the corner with his usual slightly limping gait, her sparkly blue Moana backpack slung over his shoulder.

It was immediately obvious at a glance that the two brothers were related: they had the same slight, lithe build, slender face, and long, inky hair. That, however, was where the resemblance stopped. Where Felix had amber eyes, Glenn’s were cool blue. Where Felix wore slacks and button-downs, Glenn wore ripped jeans and old t-shirt. Both of Glenn’s arms were sleeved with intricate tattoos, more poking out from under the collar of his faded band shirt. His ears were gauged – not absurdly so, no bigger around than a nickle – with the shell of his ears lined with studs and bars. His eyebrows and tongue, too, were pierced. As a tattoo artist, the aesthetic made sense.

“Hey, Glenn,” Sylvain greeted, tipping his head.

“Sylvain.”

The girl, who had been on the verge of pouting, seemed to notice their guest for the first time and turned to look at him, her head cocked to the side. “You look like Miklan,” she told him, wary.

Sylvain laughed, not making the face he’d made when Felix pointed it out. “Yeah. Miklan is my brother.”

“Oh! Like Daddy and Uncle Glenn.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She studied him a moment longer, tilting her head from side-to-side, before walking over to him. “I’m Aria,” she said him, smiling sweetly.

“Hi, Aria. I’m Sylvain.”

“Sylvain…” Her green eyes glittered. “Can I show you something really cool?”

Sylvain glanced back at Felix, who was watching silent and slightly impressed, before nodding. “Absolutely.”

Aria wasted no time grabbing him by the hand and dragging him out to the living room. Felix turned in his chair, watching through the open half-wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. She prompted Sylvain to take a seat on the couch while she showed off her new-found skill of doing cartwheels that she’d learned at school the week before.

Sylvain offered smiles and praise when she stood back upright with small flourishes, not the patronizing kind a lot of adults did – Aria could see right through those, always sharp as a tack – but genuine praise. “Daddy, Uncle Glenn,” she called, glancing over at them after her second cartwheel, “you watch too, okay?”

“We’re watching, Pumpkin,” Felix assured her.

Glenn laughed as he took a seat in the chair Sylvain had abandoned. “Well, _that_ took all of five seconds.” It was true enough. Aria, Felix had learned very early on, drew people to her like a magnet, a skill Felix certainly didn’t share. If she decided she liked someone, that was basically it. It wouldn’t be long before she had them wrapped around her finger. “She still won’t get within five feet of Mik.”

“Don’t blame her,” Felix muttered, earning a light shove from his brother.

“Come on, Fe. You can see he’s a nice guy. Aria likes him. What’s it going to hurt if he babysits one time?”

Felix sighed. “You’re right.”

“‘Course I am.” They watched a while as Aria continued to tumble around, giggling and panting, Sylvain casting amused looks back at them every so often. And Felix found his eyes wandering toward the redhead… “And,” Glenn said, dropping his voice down to a whisper, “you think he’s hot.”

“Bite me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has this been done before? IDK, but I'm doing it. We get to see some soft Felix in this one, and I am absolutely here for it.


	2. Resolve

Aria finished her show and let Sylvain return to the kitchen with the grownups. She peeked over the half wall, all big green eyes. “Daddy, when’s dinner?”

“It’ll be ready in a bit, okay?”

“Kay. Can I watch cartoons, then?”

“Go ahead.” She returned to the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on some show on the Disney Channel.

Sylvain was smiling when he sat down again, between Felix and Glenn. “I think you found a new best friend, Sylvain,” Glenn teased.

Sylvain laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think? She’s seems like a sweet kid.”

“Yeah, she is,” Felix agreed. While he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the guy, he couldn’t deny that he clicked with Aria almost immediately. It was kind of hard to believe that someone who seemed so genuinely cheerful could be related to Miklan, who Felix always thought kind of had a chip on his shoulder about something. In all the time Felix and Aria had known Miklan, he’d never made any effort to talk to her or play with her, and he’d certainly never called her ‘sweet.’ Though, as far as Felix was concerned, the less time she spent around the man, the better. “So, you’re sure you don’t mind watching her on Saturday?”

“Not at all,” he assured him with an easy smile.

“And you can be here by eight forty-five?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright,” Felix finally relented. “I really appreciate the help.”

Sylvain flashed a winning smile, one Felix had no doubt could get the man just about anything he wanted. “I’m happy to help.” Beyond him, Felix could see Glenn’s shoulders shaking in silent laughter, but his brother said nothing. “Unless there’s anything else, I think I’ll get out of here and let you eat your dinner.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Sylvain stood and offered his hand to Felix. Felix shook it; warm, he noted, and soft. His grip lingered just a few seconds too long to be a casual hand shake, and Felix was once again left with the feeling that Sylvain was someone who had no trouble getting his way. Charming, he remembered. With a wink, Sylvain turned to show himself out. Aria, who until then was absorbed in a rerun of DuckTales, honed in on Sylvain as he passed by the living room. “Are you leaving?” she wondered.

“I am.”

“Are you going to come back?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

“Okay! Bye, Sylvain!”

“Bye, Aria.” He disappeared down the hallway and Felix heard the door close a moment later.

“Aria,” Felix called, “turn off the TV and go wash your hands for dinner.”

“Okay.”

Felix stood and pulled plates out of the cabinet. “You staying for dinner, Glenn?”

“Nah, I’ll get out of your hair.” Glenn was still smirking knowingly at Felix, like he knew what had happened was a foregone conclusion. “So, what did you think of Sylvain?”

“He’s fine,” Felix shrugged nonchalantly as he scooped potatoes onto Aria’s plate. “I guess it wasn’t fair of me to assume he was going to be an asshole just because he’s Miklan’s brother.” Glenn rolled his eyes. “So, does he flirt like that with everyone?” Not because Felix cared, he was just curious.

Glenn laughed. “Oh, yeah. Guy’s kind of a horn dog.”

“A dog?” a small, curious voice asked from the doorway, and Glenn turned with a start as Aria stared up at him. “I saw a dog in the car this morning.”

“How cool,” Felix muttered, cutting her pork chop into small bites as she climbed into one of the chairs.

Glenn stood, pausing to lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head as he passed. “Later, Munchkin.”

She hugged him tight around the waist. “Bye, Uncle Glenn!” He tossed a wave over his shoulder to Felix and showed himself out.

With a scoop of green beans added, Felix sat her plate down in front of her before putting together his own. She ate with little complaint, aside from a few grumbles about her green beans; Felix often felt bad he wasn’t a better cook, but she was a trooper and didn’t seem to mind too much that they ate the same handful of basic meals on rotation all the time. At least they weren’t eating takeout every other night anymore, like they had been for the first few months after moving.

Aria filled the silence by telling Felix all about her day at school. She was particularly excited about getting to use paint in art class instead of just crayons and markers. “And, next week,” she added, practically bouncing in her chair, “we’re gonna use clay!”

“Wow, that sounds fun.”

“Mm-hmm!” She fell silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on a chunk of pork chop. “When is Sylvain gonna come back?”

“He’s going to babysit on Saturday.” Her eyes lit up, like that was the best news she’d gotten since finding out they were going to use clay in art class next week. “Did you like Sylvain?”

“Yeah. He’s nice, and he liked my cartwheels. Is he going to babysit all the time, like Annie did?”

Felix hesitated. “I don’t think so, Pumpkin,” he said carefully. “I’m sure Sylvain has already has a job.” Even though he wasn’t sure about that at all, and he hadn’t asked.

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, picking at her green beans, but it didn’t take long before she was back to telling Felix all about what she and her friends did at recess and the game they played in gym class. They finished eating, and Aria insisted on drying the dishes after Felix washed them. “When can I have dessert?”

“After you finish your homework.”

She wasted no time getting started on said homework, spreading out on the kitchen table and working dutifully on her adding worksheet. After that, Felix sat with her while she did her read aloud, occasionally prompting her to sound out the words she struggled with, and tested her on her sight words. Felix signed her reading log when she was finished and she repacked her backpack. “Can I have ice cream now, Daddy?

“Sure, Pumpkin. Do you want chocolate sauce?”

“Mm-hmm.” He got her her dessert and sat it down in front of her. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome.”

After dessert, she flitted between watching cartoons and playing with her Barbies. They enjoyed a quiet evening until bath time at seven thirty, followed by bedtime at eight. She picked out her favorite bedtime story, and Felix made all the funny voices she loved as he read, eliciting soft giggles. “Daddy, tuck me in,” she asked when the story was finished. He did as he was asked, tucking her in under her Frozen blanket.

“Do you need your nightlight?”

She considered it for a moment. “Uh-uh.” He bent over to give her a kiss goodnight. “Goodnight. Love you, Daddy.”

“Night, Pumpkin. Love you.” He flipped out the light and closed the door behind him.

With Aria in bed, Felix opened a bottle of beer – a small indulgence he allowed himself some evenings – and turned the channel to something that wasn’t cartoons, not quite watching it but enjoying the background noise.

It hadn't exactly been Felix's plan to be a single father to a five-year-old daughter at twenty-three, but things don't always end up the way you want them to. But, they're getting by. They have their decent little two-bedroom apartment in New York, and Felix's marketing job comfortably pays the bills.

Aria was happy. She’d adjusted to the move the year before. It had been a hard decision, moving away from the security of Felix’s parents in the interest of a good job after getting his degree, though the move had brought them near Glenn, so they weren’t completely alone in a new city. Aria was flourishing in school, making lots of friends and learning so much. And the girl was growing like a weed.

Really, what more could Felix ask for?

He was still apprehensive about leaving Aria with Sylvain, though. As first impressions went, Sylvain’s hadn’t been as bad as it could have been, and at very least Felix was convinced the guy wasn’t Miklan Jr. He just had to keep reminding himself that it was only one night.

And so what if Glenn wasn’t entirely off base with his assessment that Felix may have found Sylvain somewhat, slightly, kind of good looking? Glenn had blatantly called him a horn dog and Felix really didn’t need that in his life, thanks.

The night wore on, and eventually, Felix shut off the TV and headed to bed himself.

~OoO~

Friday passed as it always did: Shower, breakfast, dropping Aria off at school, work, picking Aria up, working from home, dinner, homework, relaxing, bath time, bed.

And then it was Saturday morning. Anxiety gnawed at Felix’s stomach as the clock ticked closer and closer to eight forty-five, though Aria was certainly excited. She’d been looking forward to getting to see Sylvain again, a small comfort to Felix the day before. The only thing that would have been worse than leaving her with an almost total stranger would be leaving her with an almost total stranger that she didn’t like.

And, God, putting it like that, Felix felt even worse. Sylvain was a stranger to him, even if Glenn seemed to know him well enough. Felix forced himself to take a breath. He trusted Glenn’s judgment. Glenn might not have had the best taste in men, but he wasn’t going to suggest someone Aria was going to be unsafe with.

It was almost eight forty-five on the dot when there was a knock on the door. Aria glanced up from her scrambled eggs as Felix moved to answer it. Sylvain stood on the other side, wearing the same self-sure smile he’d donned before. Much like on Thursday, he wore an expensive blue t-shirt, though this time he had an unbuttoned white collared shirt layered over it, and a pair of artfully ripped jeans. A black messenger bag was slung over his shoulder. The look basically screamed ‘rich asshole.’ He winked one of his bright hazel eyes, long lashes batting against his cheek. “Morning,” he greeted brightly.

“Morning.” Felix moved over and let Sylvain pass him by, once again smelling the spicy cologne he’d noticed last time.

Aria peeked over the half wall, her green eyes lighting up. “Sylvain!”

“Good morning, Aria.”

“Finish your eggs, Pumpkin,” Felix told her; the girl had a habit of getting distracted when eating, and could spend an hour at the table if Felix let her. He turned back to Sylvain. “Alright, let’s see… She’s a pretty easy-going kid, so you should be alright. She’s pretty independent. Um… She’ll probably want a grilled cheese for lunch.” He paused. Aren’t rich guys notorious for not knowing the first thing about cooking? “Do you know how to make a grilled cheese?”

Sylvain laughed, amused by Felix’s assumption. “I do, believe it or not.”

“Right. If she wants a snack, there are fruit snacks and graham crackers in the cupboard, and there are juice boxes in the fridge. Just don’t let her snack too much, or she won’t eat dinner. I left some cash on the counter with the number to the pizza place we like. Just order what I wrote down and whatever you want, there’s enough money to cover it. And there’s a container of salad in the fridge. Don’t let her trick you,” he added with a pointed look to the girl, who just giggled into her eggs, “she _has_ to eat her vegetables if she wants dessert.

“It’s Saturday, don’t worry about homework or bed time. I shouldn't be later than eight-thirty, so she can stay up. If you need anything, text me. If it’s important, and I don’t answer, call Glenn. But, like I said, you should be fine.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

Felix eyed the messenger bag. “Your laptop?” he guessed. Sylvain nodded, patting it lightly. “Here, let me write down the wifi password.” Felix stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a notepad and pen off the counter and scrawling down the password.

Sylvain looked it over with a furrowed brow. “How do you just remember a random string of numbers and letters off the top of your head?”

Felix shrugged. “I use it enough I would hope I remember it by now.”

“Fair enough.”

Felix turned back to Aria. “Done eating yet?” She nodded, holding up a mostly clean plate. “Good, put it in the sink.” She did as she was asked and came out to join them a moment later. Felix checked his watch. Five to nine. He sighed. “I gotta go now, Pumpkin.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She hugged him around the middle.

He swooped down to plop a kiss on top of her head. “Behave for Sylvain.”

“I will,” she giggled.

“Love you, Pumpkin.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

Felix hesitated just a moment, looking between Sylvain and Aria. “Alright,” he sighed with a nod toward Sylvain. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

And Felix headed to work.

~OoO~

His meetings were a dull, dry affair. He envied Leonie and Ashe, who weren’t needed for the day like Felix was. Beside him, another co-worker, the pink-haired Hilda Goneril who worked as a secretary for one of the junior execs looked bored almost to tears, leaning heavily on her hand and twirling a strand of long pink hair around a perfectly manicured nail. Technically, Hilda wasn’t really needed in the meetings either, but since she did a lot of work for her boss, it was easier if she was in the know, and therefore, she was forced to suffer along with the rest of them.

They listened as the old man droned on. The CEO of the Leicester Alliance Foundation, Oswald Riegan, was a stern, strict old man. He walked with a cane, his back hunched with age, but his eyes were sharp and piercing. His grandson, Khalid – who happened to be Hilda’s boss and the reason Felix had his job in the first place – was poised to take over the company when the old man croaked. Khalid and Oswald were often at odds with each other, some sort of generational gap that led to conflicting ideals mixed with the fact that they were both stubborn bastards who refused to give an inch when they were convinced they were right. There was also the fact that the old man hated his grandson’s Middle Eastern heritage, but would rather see the company go to him than the shareholders when he finally passed.

Nothing unexpected or particularly interesting happened, just as Felix had predicted; as he’d thought, the entire day could have been condensed into a series of emails, and nothing would have been lost for it. Still, his job was his job, good and bad.

When Felix was finally able to head home, almost half an hour later than he was supposed to get off, darkness had long since fallen. He hadn’t gotten any texts from Sylvain – and he’d checked… often – which was promising. The parking lot of his apartment complex was still, dimly lit by a couple of flickering streetlights. While they certainly didn’t live in bad or sketchy neighborhood, Felix still hadn’t quite gotten used to living in the city and scrutinized every shadow as he headed for the building.

He slumped against the elevator wall as it rattled its way up to the fourth floor, ready to do nothing but kick off his shoes, change out of his clothes, and melt into the couch. He opened the door to number 408 to the soft hum of the TV and the lingering scent of pizza.

Sylvain was seated on the couch, a laptop that surely had a price tag Felix didn’t even want to think about perched on the arm, his hands occupied by a digital drawing tablet and stylus. Aria was sitting up against him, her little head falling against the arm that held the tablet, her big green eyes drooping sleepily.

Sylvain glanced up, his stylus stilling for a moment. “Oh, hey. Sorry, gimme a second to save this…” He clicked something on the computer before closing it gently.

Aria blinked up at him. “Daddy, you’re home.”

He crossed over to the couch, ruffling her hair. “Was everything okay while I was gone?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sylvain assured him as he stowed his laptop back in his bag. “Like you said, she’s pretty easy-going.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Felix watched as Sylvain carefully placed the drawing tablet and stylus in their own carrying case, tucking them neatly along side the computer. “What were you working on?” he wondered.

“That? Just catching up on some work.” So the guy _did_ have a job.

“What do you do?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Graphic design… well, on a freelance basis, anyway.” He shrugged, carefully standing so Aria wouldn’t flop over without him supporting her weight. “But, seriously, this was fun. Aria’s a cool kid.”

“Yeah, she is,” Felix agreed.

Sylvain shifted, biting a plush, pink lip and rubbing the back of his neck. “So, Glenn mentioned that you lost your regular babysitter and have been having trouble finding a replacement.”

“Yeah…” Where was he going with this?

“If you’re looking for someone… well, I really wouldn’t mind.”

Felix stared at him, blank and scrutinizing. Offering to babysit one night was one thing. Asking to take on the job on a regular basis was an entire other. “Why?” was all Felix could think to ask.

“Like I said, I work freelance. I don’t really do anything during the day, and I kind of miss babysitting, if I’m being honest.” Felix opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out, but Sylvain cut him off. “And, I know you’re not going to let me work for free,” he added quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. Which, yes, was true, but maybe not the detail Felix might have focused on. “You can pay me whatever you paid your last babysitter.”

Felix wasn’t quite sure what to say. Sylvain sounded earnest enough, but it was hard to imagine a rich, twenty-something guy just volunteering for a babysitting job he clearly didn’t need. Felix swallowed. He needed to say something. “I’ll think about it,” is what came out.

“Okay,” Sylvain conceded with a small smile. “Um… just, let me know what you decide.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… good night.”

“Night, Sylvain,” Aria mumbled sleepily from the couch.

“Night, Aria.” With another small smile to Felix, Sylvain showed himself out.

Felix sighed. Sure. One night. As if it could have been that simple. But that was a matter to figure out later. He scooped up his half-asleep daughter, her head lolling onto his shoulder as he carried her to her room.

“Did you have a good day, Pumpkin?” he asked softly.

“Mm-hmm. Sylvain is lotsa fun.”

“Yeah?” She nodded. He helped her into her pajamas, somehow managing to keep her awake long enough.

As he was tucking her into bed, she blinked up at him. “Can Sylvain babysit again?”

Saying no to those eyes was a skill Felix had spent five years cultivating, and he would like to think he was quite the expert at it by that point. But every now and again, she managed to test his resolve. “We’ll see, Pumpkin.”


	3. Sylvain the Babysitter

Sylvain couldn’t help himself. How could he? With the soft midnight hair pulled back into a high ponytail, intense amber eyes under long, thick lashes, and thin lips that seemed to slip so easily between an irritated scowl and a taunting smirk, Felix Fraldarius was hot as hell, and Sylvain was powerless to resist.

He usually didn’t go for people with kids. People with kids were already bogged down with responsibility which meant they _probably_ weren’t able to go out and have a good time at the drop of a dime – and a lot of the ones that could ignored their kids, in which case, hard pass – and there was usually drama and baggage from their kid’s other parent that Sylvain wanted no part of.

And that wasn’t to say Sylvain didn’t like kids. Quite the opposite, actually. Gautier family reunions were usually fraught with enough redheaded kids to fill a little league. Age-wise, Sylvain kind of fell in the middle of the road. He had as many cousins older than him as he had younger, and by the time Sylvain was twelve, most of his older cousins had already started popping out kids of their own, and somehow, the young ones always got pawned off on Sylvain.

Not to mention, Sylvain had learned by age sixteen that chicks dig guys who are good with kids.

So, hot or not, Felix usually wasn’t the type of guy Sylvain would pursue. But, God, did Sylvain want. Something about Felix’s aloof, unimpressed attitude drew Sylvain like a magnet. There was just something about the things Sylvain couldn’t have that made him want them more, getting past someone’s walls until they couldn’t keep him away any longer.

Obviously, while Sylvain had agreed to babysit because he knew Miklan would stop trying to hit him up for cash for a few weeks if he did him a favor, he hadn’t expected Glenn’s brother to be his type. Sure, Glenn was an attractive enough guy, but excessive tattoos and piercings just weren’t Sylvain’s thing. When Glenn said his brother was a single dad, Sylvain got the mental image of a tatted-up stoner type whose baby mama ran off and left him with the kid.

Just from the few minutes he’d spent with Felix and Aria, Sylvain could tell his assumptions had been way off base. Sylvain didn’t know how exactly Felix ended up a single dad, but it was clear the guy was over the moon for his daughter (and it was easy to see why).

Then there was Aria herself. Most of his cousins were spoiled brats – the Gautier name and the money that comes with it will do that to a kid – and would scream and cry and pout to get their way. But Aria seemed like a polite, well-mannered kid.

It was a refreshing change of pace, Sylvain decided about ten minutes after Felix left for work Saturday morning. Aria excused herself to change out of her Wonder Woman pajamas. Sylvain took a seat on the couch, a bit uncomfortable now that he was suddenly left alone in someone else’s apartment until she returned a moment later dressed in the interesting combination of a boy’s Ninja Turtles t-shirt over a pair of sparkly pink unicorn leggings. She stared at him for a few seconds, studying him intently. “Do you think Spongebob’s on?” she wondered, very seriously.

Sylvain chuckled. “We can find out.” She climbed up next to Sylvain on the couch ashe grabbed the remote off the coffee table and helpfully showed him which buttons to press. “Do you know what channel Spongebob is usually on?”

“Mm-hmm. Either 2-9-9 or 3-0-0.”

Sylvain punched in the numbers and, as luck would have it, Spongebob _was_ on. They sat and watched for a while. It was a pretty good mix of new episodes that were far more absurd than Sylvain remembered, and old episodes that Sylvain had seen often enough in his childhood that he could practically recite them. Aria giggled whenever he quoted a line along with the characters. “Daddy does that too,” she whispered like it was a big secret she was confiding in Sylvain.

After Spongebob ended, Aria seemed to lose interest in watching TV for the time being, and ran off to play with an armful of Barbies in an array of conditions. Some were old with missing limbs, smooshed faces, and hair matted beyond repair, perhaps hand-me-downs from an older child. Others were new, clean and in tact with perfectly groomed hair. Most, however, were dressed like the closet of Barbie’s Dream House threw up on them, their clothing a mishmash of clashing colors and styles courtesy of a child who clearly didn’t quite get the concept of matching clothes yet.

Sylvain pulled out his laptop, scrolling idly though Facebook while he watched her play. She laid out on the floor with her dolls, now joined by an army of My Little Ponies and superhero action figures. It was pretty amusing, watching Batman, Robin, and the Joker ride sparkly ponies while Captain America and Spider-Man had tea with Barbie and Ken.

At lunch time, Aria was all too happy to help Sylvain, showing him where they kept the pans and the utensils and the plates, standing at his hip as he made them each a grilled cheese sandwich. “You didn’t burn it,” she noted, sounding pleased as she bit into the gooey, cheesy sandwich. “Daddy burns them a lot. But it’s okay,” she adds, almost as an afterthought. “Daddy tries.”

Sylvain laughed at the way she sounded wise beyond her years. He wondered if she was parroting something she’d heard another grown-up say, Glenn perhaps, or a grandparent. Sylvain knew very little about the little family, after all, just a couple scant scraps of information Glenn had mentioned in passing when he asked Sylvain about babysitting. Their family was from Ohio, originally, though Glenn had moved to New York a few years before to apprentice in a renowned tattoo shop before opening his own. Last year, Felix followed for a job. That was about the extent of Sylvain’s knowledge.

The rest of their day passed in much the same fashion, Aria flitting between watching cartoons and playing with her toys. At on point, she asked Sylvain to color with her, and how could he refuse? She opted for the Disney Princess coloring book, settling on a picture of Belle while Sylvain picked one of Maleficent. When Aria was finished coloring, she presented Sylvain with her masterpiece, insisting she made it for him. He studied the finished product, a picture of Belle with blue hair and a purple dress. She smiled up at him expectantly. “I love it,” he told her, tucking it in his computer bag where it wouldn’t get torn up.

She hung his picture of Maleficent up on the refrigerator because she thought he did a good job.

He ordered their pizza at dinner time. Aria ate her salad without a fuss, since Sylvain had already been warned that she couldn’t have dessert otherwise. After dessert – a few Oreo cookies dunked in a glass of milk – Aria picked a movie, Hotel Transylvania, and they settled on the couch to watch it. Sylvain decided to get some work done; his deadline was still a ways off, but he still had a lot to do. After asking some questions about his drawing tablet, Aria’s attention returned to the movie.

About half way through the second movie, Aria started to fade, her head lolling onto her chest. Felix was running a little late, the time already going on eight forty-five. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked softly.

She shook her head slowly. “I wanna wait for Daddy.”

And how could he say no to that? Felix had already told him not to worry about bedtime anyway. By the time Sylvain heard the door open, Aria was leaning against his arm, already half asleep as he worked on his computer. “Oh, hey,” he greeted when Felix appeared from the hallway. “Sorry, gimme a second to save this.” Once that was done, he closed the computer gently, not wanting to jostle Aria too much.

Aria stired as Felix crossed to the couch, blinking up at the man with small smile. “Daddy, you’re home.” The tender look he gave her as he reached down to softly ruffle her hair practically melted Sylvain, seeing those disdainful amber eyes soften.

“Was everything okay while I was gone?” Felix asked quietly, glancing over at Sylvain who realized a second too late that he’d been staring.

“Oh, yeah,” he assured him quickly, turning to put his laptop back in his bag to cover for his little slip, hoping he hadn’t been discovered. “Like you said, she’s pretty easy-going.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he sighed. And he did look glad, the corners of his lips tugging up slightly. He looked more at ease than he had before, as if seeing for himself that leaving Sylvain to babysit hadn’t resulted in disaster was a weight off his shoulders. Sylvain smiled slightly to himself as he tucked his drawing tablet back into its case. “What were you working on?”

“That?” Sylvain laughed, thrilled beyond explanation that the guy was taking even the slightest bit of interest in Sylvain personally. If Sylvain knew himself – which he did, very well – that was exactly the kind of thing he was likely to take and run with. “Just catching up on some work.”

“What do you do?”

“Graphic design… well, on a freelance basis, anyway.” He shrugged lightly, like it was nothing major, playing at aloof. He stood carefully, not wanting Aria to topple over. Felix met his eyes evenly. “But, seriously, this was fun. Aria’s a cool kid.”

Felix looked down at her with a soft smile. “Yeah, she is.”

Sylvain shifted his weight, catching a lip between his teeth. It was something he’d been toying with most of the evening, but with how standoffish the guy could be, he was worried being too… forward would make him lose his chance forever. “So, Glenn mentioned that you lost your regular babysitter and have been having trouble finding a replacement,” he said, taking the chance.

Felix’s eyes narrow slightly. “Yeah…”

He had gone too far to back down under the intensity of Felix’s gaze. “If you’re looking for someone… well, I really wouldn’t mind.”

Felix was silent for a long moment, and Sylvain felt like the guy was trying to peel him back layer by layer as he studied him with hard eyes. “Why?”

“Like I said, I work freelance. I don’t really do anything during the day, and I kind of miss babysitting, if I’m being honest,” he said. _And you’re really fucking hot and I want an excuse to be around you again_ , he didn’t say. Felix looked like he was about to object, and Sylvain cut him off, holding his hands up in surrender. “And I know you’re not going to let me work for free. You can pay me whatever you paid your last babysitter.” Since he wasn’t in it for the money, anyway.

For a moment, Sylvain was afraid Felix was just going to tell him to fuck off, kick him out, and never talk to him again. Not to mention, Sylvain wanted to crack under the intense look Felix was regarding him with. “I’ll think about it,” he finally ground out. Which wasn’t a no, and Sylvain could work with that.

“Okay,” he agreed, flashing Felix a smile. “Um… just let me know what you decide.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound like he was interested in talking anymore.

“Well…” Sylvain muttered, “good night.”

“Night, Sylvain,” Aria mumbled, eyes half-lidded on the couch.

He smiled down at her. At least one of them liked him. “Night, Aria.” He spared Felix a final winning smile before showing himself out. There were no guarantees he was ever going to hear from Felix again, but he definitely hadn’t said no.

When he got back to his own apartment, blue-haired Belle found a place on his refrigerator.

~OoO~

“How did things go with Sylvain last night?” Glenn wondered the next day, voice slightly muffled over the phone.

Felix sighed. His eyes stayed on Aria as she pumped her little legs on the park swing, face flushed and smiling, her long hair streaming out behind her. The sound of laughing children filled the park, and Felix had managed to claim a bench away from the hordes of soccer moms who chatted among themselves. “Fine,” he admitted. “Aria loved him. She keeps asking when he can babysit again.”

Glenn laughed like he wasn’t surprised in the least. “Well, is there going to be an _again_?”

“I don’t know,” Felix huffed. It had been on his mind all night, refusing to give him a moment’s peace. “He offered, but I told him I’d think about it.”

“Offered,” Glenn repeated, curiosity piqued, “as in ‘I’ll help in a pinch?’”

“Offered as in ‘I’ll be your regular babysitter.’”

“Dude, that’s perfect.” Felix wasn’t sure he agreed. His silence didn't go unnoticed by his brother. “If this is still about him being related to Miklan-”

“It’s not,” he sighed. “It’s just…”

He can practically hear Glenn’s smirk. “It’s just you think he’s hot and you’re worried because all of your hangups about dating.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I do not have hangups about dating.”

“You’ve dated, what, two people since the breakup? That was over three years ago.” Felix rolled his eyes. It wasn’t exactly for lack of trying that Felix didn’t date. Typically, things went well until they learned that he had a kid. Most people his age just weren’t interested in having to worry about someone else’s kids, they wanted to drink and party and have fun. That just wasn’t the kind of relationship Felix could have. He had responsibilities that were simply more important to him. “Let’s say you agree to have Sylvain babysit regularly. That doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen between you two. And if it does-”

“It won’t.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re just obnoxious.”

“Ooh, what a comeback,” Glenn laughed. “I dunno, dude. I think you should give him a chance.” Felix bit back an insult about how he also thought it was a good idea to give Miklan a chance. “I gotta go.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later.”

Felix hung up the phone, stuffing it back in his pocket. Aria had abandoned the swings and was busy running around the small grassy field with a small group of other kids in a game of tag, laughing and shrieking happily.

_Sylvain is lotsa fun_. Felix sighed, pulling his phone back out and staring at the screen. _Can Sylvain babysit again_? Oh, fuck it.

> **Me:** Were you serious about babysitting regularly?

It was only a few moments before his phone pinged with a return text.

> **(212)555-0165** : Absolutely!
> 
> **Me:** Can I call later you to discuss the specifics?


	4. (Not) Facebook Stalking

Felix drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk while he tried to read the documents that had been forwarded to him. It was nearly three-thirty. If things were going as planned, Sylvain would already be waiting at the school, ready to walk Aria back to Felix’s apartment. They lived only a few blocks from the school, and it was a nice enough day. Crisp September air. Light jacket weather. Normally, Felix or his babysitter would drive, but as Felix had no way to get Aria’s car seat to Sylvain that morning, they would just have to deal with the walk.

Of course, that wouldn’t be a long-term solution. Soon, the weather would turn cold, and there wouldn’t always be ideal conditions for walking. Felix found himself fretting over the thought. He did still have her old car seat in the closet… He didn’t think she’d _quite_ outgrown it yet, and if it was just for a few minutes every couple of days-

“Felix?”

He blinked, glancing over to see Khalid, half-sitting on the edge of his desk, staring oddly down at Felix. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” he laughed. “You okay? You were really spaced out there for a moment. I said your name, like, four times.”

“Sorry,” Felix sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Lot on my mind.”

Khalid nodded knowingly. “Which means it's about Aria.” Sometimes, he was too perceptive, knew Felix too well. “How’s she doing?”

“Good. Really good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m more worried about her new babysitter.”

“Ooh.” Khalid settled on the desk, arms crossed, flashing a smirk that Felix had, at one point, grown to love and hate in equal measure. “I didn’t realize you got a new babysitter. Dish.”

Felix hesitated. It really wasn’t Khalid’s business, but maybe it would be nice to have someone – someone who wasn’t biased, like Glenn – to talk to. “I needed a babysitter for our meeting on Saturday, and my brother flaked on me… Well, I guess that’s not really fair. He forgot he was busy,” Felix rambled, “he can’t help it.”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, he suggested his boyfriend’s brother-”

“Isn’t your brother still dating that Gautier asshole?”

“Yup.” Khalid made a face. The Gautier family was well-known among the upper echelon, which Khalid, due to the virtue of his grandfather’s status, knew way too much about. Though the Alliance Foundation didn’t have anything to do with them, Gautier & Aegir was a big shot law firm that defended New York’s elite. Andrew Gautier’s oldest son, Miklan, was infamous in the elite circles Khalid often found himself among; after getting arrested for assault about three years prior – the charges _mysteriously_ dropped three days later – he was disowned by his father and kicked to the curb.

Khalid busied himself on his phone for a moment. “This is his brother, right?” he asked, turning the screen around so Felix could see a Facebook profile: a perfectly posed selfie of Sylvain winked at him. He was on some white-sand beach, a pair of designer sunglasses shading his eyes, red hair perfectly tousled and sparkling with droplets of water. A towel was draped over his bare shoulders, also beaded with drops of water. Between his toned chest, taut abs, and generous biceps, Felix was having trouble denying Glenn’s assessment of ‘you think he’s hot.’

“That’s him.” Khalid laughed then, running a hand through his mop of dark curls. “You know him?”

“We’ve met a couple times,” he dismissed. His brow furrowed. “Might have hooked up at a club once… I dunno, I was pretty trashed.” Felix’s chest completely did _not_ grow tight at the implication that Sylvain may have been into guys, no, not in the slightest. “Not important. Point is, dude’s kind of a playboy… and that’s putting it nicely. He really babysat Aria?”

Felix sighed, crossing his arms. “ _Is_ babysitting Aria,” he corrected, checking the time. “Right now. He should have just picked her up from school a couple minutes ago.”

Khalid blinked, then burst out laughing. “Seriously?”

“He offered to babysit regularly, since I was having trouble finding someone to replace Annette. Aria really liked him.” Felix’s eyes narrowed. “Why, is he a creep or something?”

“No, no,” Khalid assured him quickly, “nothing like that. I wouldn’t be laughing if that was the case.” Which, fair. “I just think it’s hilarious that you got a guy who’s always showing up in those tabloid rags babysitting your daughter.” Unease gnawed at Felix’s stomach. “He clearly doesn’t need the money. What’s he doing it for?”

“I don’t know,” Felix sighed, though he had a sinking suspicion that he _did_ know. “But, he seems like a decent enough guy.” Khalid arched an eyebrow. “Well, decent enough to watch Aria for a couple hours a week.”

“That’s fair.” He stood, putting his hands behind his head casually. “We should probably get back to work before the old man finds out we’re slacking off and blows a gasket.” With a wink, he sauntered off, and Felix tried to focus on getting his work done.

Easier said than done.

And Felix did not spend entirely too much time discreetly stalking Sylvain’s social media on his phone under his desk while pretending to be busy. That would have been ridiculous. He was a responsible, professional adult, after all. (So he definitely didn’t see all of the shirtless selfies and photos of him with a slew of scantily clad women hanging off his arms.)

By the time Felix was able to leave at five, he was back to being unsure about the arrangement. Was that really the kind of guy he wanted hanging around his kid? Sylvain may have come across as decent in person, but his private life – well, if you can really call it private when it’s plastered all over Facebook and Instagram – definitely seemed to be that of a guy whose primary interests were, in no particular order: drinking, partying, and sex.

Felix forced himself to keep calm as he drove. Obviously, it didn’t matter what Sylvain did in his free time. It wasn’t like he was dragging Aria into his crazy night life. Based on what Aria told him of the night Sylvain babysat, he mostly just chilled on his computer or played Barbies with her. And, really, a guy who had the patience to sit through a five-year-old’s Barbie tea party couldn’t be all bad, right?

And, between the two of them, which one got their girlfriend pregnant in high school? Which one only had a great job because he fucked his boss’s grandson in college? So, really, who was Felix to judge Sylvain on his sex life?

When Felix finally got into his apartment, he found Sylvain flicking through the TV channels while Aria arranged an assortment of Barbies, Monster High dolls, Disney princesses, superheroes, and stuffed animals on top of her toy box, meticulously organizing them based one which toys liked each other and which ones most certainly did _not_ get along. He couldn’t help but smile a little. His family definitely made sure she was well spoiled, and after her birthday in August, her toy box practically overflowed.

“Did you find the school alright?” Felix asked, coming to a stop behind the couch.

Sylvain glanced up at him, setting down the remote as he moved to stand. “Yeah, not a problem.” Felix nodded, swallowing hard and trying not to look at Sylvain for too long. Oh, there was a problem alright; Felix was having trouble _not_ picturing Sylvain shirtless after seeing the countless pictures of just that. “You alright?” His brow was knitted, hazel eyes seemingly full of genuine concern.

“Yeah,” Felix dismissed, a bit too quickly. “Just… kind of a long day.”

Sylvain said nothing for a moment, just studied Felix with his head cocked to the side. “Sorry to hear that,” he finally said.

“Yeah.” Felix busied himself digging through Aria’s backpack. The key he’d begrudgingly tucked away where he hoped it wouldn’t get misplaced was right where it was supposed to be, presumably replaced where it had been after Sylvain used it to let them in after school. Felix flipped it over in his hands, torn. Finally, he offered it to Sylvain, who stared at it for a moment as if he was worried it was going to bite him. “Take it.”

“Are you sure?”

No. “Yeah. Trust me, it’s better if you keep it.” He shot a look at his daughter, still playing without a care in the world. “ _Someone_ has a really bad habit of losing things she’s not supposed to touch.” She looked up at him then, all big, green eyes and a gappy smile. Car keys, wallets, phones, money… The last thing he needed was for her to lose the key and get herself and Sylvain locked out of the apartment.

“Alright,” Sylvain relented, digging his car keys from his pocket and making a show of looping the apartment key on the ring. “Thanks.”

“So, I was thinking today,” Felix muttered. “The weather’s going to start getting bad here before too long, and so walking’s not going to be a very good solution for long.” He beckoned for Sylvain to follow him to the hall closet, pulling it open and shoving a couple boxes he had yet to unpack to the side. As he thought, the old car seat was tucked into the back corner. “If you need to drive, you can come grab her car seat before you head to the school. I figure that’d work better for you than keeping a car seat in your car all the time.” Though, the mental image of one of his hoard of party girls - or boys, if Khalid was to be believed - getting into his car and seeing it in the back seat was pretty amusing.

After hemming and hawing for a moment, Felix trying very hard not to think about the pictures he shouldn’t have snooped through in the first place, Aria bid Sylvain a very enthusiastic goodbye, and Sylvain left so Felix could start dinner. Spaghetti and freezer garlic bread.

Their evening passed in usual fashion until Felix was able to tuck her in at bedtime. He tried to distract himself by cleaning, by taking a shower, by watching shitty action movies on TV. But he still couldn’t get Sylvain out of his mind. Stupid sexy Sylvain.

> **Me:** I’m so fucked.
> 
> **Glenn:** Why?

Quickly, Felix took a screenshot of Sylvain’s Facebook profile picture and sent it as all the explanation necessary.

> **Glenn:** What the fuck? Were you stalking his Facebook?
> 
> **Me:** No, I mentioned him at work, and someone pulled it up.
> 
> **Glenn** : Riiight.
> 
> **Glenn** : Creep (;
> 
> **Me:** Fuck off.
> 
> **Me:** I can’t unsee it.
> 
> **Glenn:** That’s a bad thing? Dude’s hot.
> 
> **Me:** That’s the problem. He’s a fuckboy. I so don’t need that in my life right now.
> 
> **Glenn** : Did you really just use the word fuckboy?
> 
> **Me:** You’re missing the point.
> 
> **Glenn:** I don’t know what to tell you, man. If you like him, go for it. If not, just don’t.
> 
> **Glenn:** Besides, nothing says you can’t have some fun. You don’t have to date him to fuck him.
> 
> **Me:** Oh, yeah. I’m sure that’d go great.
> 
> **Glenn:** Don’t know what else to say. Don’t ask for my advice if you’re just gonna shit on it.
> 
> **Me:** Then don’t give shit advice.

~OoO~

A key. Felix gave him a _key_. Sylvain tried not to blow it out of proportion. It was just practical, after all. He didn’t want his daughter to lose it, so he gave it to Sylvain, a responsible adult, to keep track of. Practical. Responsible.

But he trusted Sylvain with his fucking _key_. It was definitely a positive sign. And the way his face had flushed when he handed it over, the way he’d avoided looking at Sylvain the entire time, it was so cute. He was so flustered. It had taken all of Sylvain’s willpower to stop himself from pulling out the moves that usually worked on the shy ones: slowly stepping into their space, dropping his voice down soft and low, gently cupping their chin and tilting their face up to look at him…

He had no doubt Felix would have fired him on the spot.

Or punched him.

Whichever.

Sylvain found himself eagerly waiting for Thursday, when he had to babysit again, when he would be able to see Felix for even just a few minutes before getting kicked out of his apartment. God, it was almost pathetic, the way just those couple of minutes with the dark haired man made Sylvain’s heart beat fast, made his stomach flutter. He felt like a teenager again, pining after Jessica Clemmet, the one girl in his private school who seemed to have actual standards and wouldn’t give him the time of day.

A knock on Sylvain’s door Wednesday afternoon surprised him. He hadn’t been expecting company – not because of Felix; he knew better than to put all his eggs in one basket, after all, even if that one basket was really fucking hot. Did one of the people he’d seen recently leave something? He didn’t remember seeing anything…

He sighed as he peered through the peephole and saw Miklan waiting on the other side in his usual grubby clothes, the nasty scar that ran across his face from some bar fight gone very wrong making his permanent scowl look all the more intimidating. Before Sylvain could decide if he’d rather just pretend he wasn’t home, his brother pounded on the door once again. “I know you’re in there, asshole,” the man shouted. “I saw your fucking car.”

Well, that made his choice easy for him, at least. The last thing he wanted was his snooty neighbors to notice the ruckus and complain to the building manager about him and his unruly company. Reluctantly, Sylvain counted to ten in his head and opened the door. Miklan shoved his way past without being invited in.

“What do you want, Mik?” Sylvain asked dryly, closing the door behind him. Miklan wasted no time rooting through Sylvain’s refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of the craft beer Sylvain was partial to. “Dude, it’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and?” When Sylvain didn’t answer, he popped the top and planted himself on a bar stool that sat along the counter. “So, I need some cash.”

Shocking. Truly. Sylvain crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “And you think stealing my beer is the way to get that?” Miklan took a long swig of said beer, bushy red eyebrow arched. “Didn’t I just do you a favor?”

“What, babysitting?” Miklan laughed. “I don’t fucking care about some stupid kid.” Irritation welled in Sylvain’s stomach. “Glenn’s the one who fucked up. Not my problem if his brother can’t find someone to watch his brat.”

“And it’s not my problem you’re broke. Get a better job.”

“Aw, come on, bro,” Miklan mocked. “Not all of us have access to daddy’s money, you know.” Daddy’s money that Miklan knew full well Sylvain went out of his way to avoid using. “A hundred bucks, and I’m out of your hair.”

“For, what, two week?” Sylvain huffed. “A month? I don’t owe you shit, Miklan.”

Miklan ran a hand through his long mop of hair, a few days unwashed and tangled to hell. “Even if I make it worth your while?”

Sylvain arched an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

The grin Miklan gave him was devious. “A hundred bucks, and I’ll tell you what Glenn’s brother said about you.”

It took a lot of concerted effort for Sylvain not to react, to simply offer an apathetic shrug. “What makes you think I care about that?” God, was he really considering it? Paying Miklan to tell him what Felix thought about him? Was he really that desperate...? Yup, he was totally that desperate.

Miklan laughed into his beer. “I know your type, dude, and I’m not dumb.” The jury was still out on the last one.

Sylvain switched gears, even though he knew it would be playing right into Miklan’s hands. “How would you know what Felix said about me, anyway?”

“Glenn hast to share _everything_ ,” his brother grouched, rolling his eyes. “It’s like I’m dating a chick.”

“If it bothers you, why are you with him?”

Miklan shrugged, taking another gulp of beer. “He’s hot and he takes dick like-”

“Moving on,” Sylvain said quickly, having no interest in hearing about his brother’s sex life. Which, he knew from experience, Miklan had zero hangups about talking about, and zero interest in reading the room to know if the topic was going over well. “Fine. What did Felix say about me?”

Miklan held out his hand expectantly. “Cash first.”

Glaring, Sylvain pulled out his wallet and pulled out two fifties. “Half up front, half once you spill the dirt. And only if it’s good dirt.”

“Deal.” He slapped the first fifty into his brother’s thick, grubby palm. “Glenn’s pretty sure he’s into you, but he won’t admit it. After you left his place last night, he texted Glenn saying he was fucked.”

Sylvain’s brow furrowed. “Why’s he fucked?” Was it good fucked or bad fucked?

“He found your Facebook page,” Miklan laughed. “He sent Glenn one of your stupid selfies, said he couldn’t unsee it.” Sylvain’s heart skipped a beat. Good fucked, then? “And then he called you a fuckboy.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he could have called Sylvain, all things considered. He’d done more with less. Not even caring about the money, Sylvain forked over the second fifty. “Now get out.” Miklan chugged the rest of his beer, left the bottle on the table, and stomped out without a word, smug and satisfied that his plan had worked. Sylvain practically ran to the computer the second Miklan was gone. Why hadn’t he thought about looking Felix up on Facebook yet? Do a little sleuthing (which was totally different than stalking, for the record) and figure out some of his interests, anything Sylvain could use as an in.

Unfortunately, Felix was one of the people that didn’t seem to use their Facebook much. He had a simple, no-nonsense selfie as his profile picture, seemingly a couple years outdated. His hair was much shorter, held out of his face with a simple black clip. His profile had his high school, some local public school in an Ohio town Sylvain had never heard of; the college he attended, OSU (go figure, are there really any other colleges in that state?); and what Sylvain guessed was his current job, some marketing position at the Leicester Alliance Foundation.

There were very few photos, less posts, and really nothing Sylvain could use. He also, notably, had posted no pictures of Aria, perhaps one of those parents who refuses to post pictures of their children online for any creep to happen upon. It checked out with what Sylvain had picked up about the guy, at very least.

The Instagram account he was very surprised Felix had was equally bare, and the only account he was following was Glenn’s page for his tattoo shop, which posted regular photos of his work.

Slightly disappointed, Sylvain shut his laptop and threw it aside. It was a very sudden realization that he had it _bad_. He found himself sharing Felix’s sentiment.

 _I’m fucked_.


	5. Taking it Slow

Things were going smoothly. Each evening when Felix returned home, finding Aria and Sylvain thick as thieves, he couldn’t help the relief that washed over him. And if they spent some time chatting by the door until Sylvain sheepishly excused himself when Aria started complaining that she was hungry and Felix hadn’t even started dinner yet, he’d been so distracted… well, Felix was allowed to have friends, he told himself. It didn’t stop him from feeling guilty for being irresponsible as he hastily made dinner, Aria munching on a graham cracker at the table to tide her over while she waited.

As September bled into October, the air getting just that much cooler, Aria started bubbling over with excitement at the approach of Halloween. Every spooky story her kindergarten class read during story time, every Halloween commercial she saw on TV, every candy display they passed in the grocery store, it sparked the chorus of questions like _Daddy, how much longer ‘til Halloween_ and _when can I pick out my costume_?

The last year had been her first time trick-or-treating, which had been kind of stressful for Felix, if he was being honest. He’d never lived in a large city before, and while his memories of Halloween were of Glenn taking him around their middle-class suburban neighborhood mostly unattended, he had been at a loss for where to take Aria in New York. Where was a safe neighborhood? Glenn had laughed and told him he worried too much, but in the end, Felix had stuck relatively close to their apartment complex and he scrutinized every piece of candy before allowing her to eat any. She’d been four after all, so it wasn’t like she needed that much candy anyway.

With about a week and a half before Halloween, they finally stopped by the seasonal aisle at the store to pick out her costume since she needed it for dress-up day at school and her costume from the year before had long-since been outgrown and donated. She stepped off the end of the cart and studied the assortment of available options with grave seriousness. “There are some princess dresses over here,” Felix noted.

Her nose scrunched up as she looked over them. “Daddy,” she sighed, “I was a princess last year. I don’t want to be a princess this year, too.”

“Oh, silly me.” Felix couldn’t help but smile when she got like that, her little lower lip jutted out and brows knitted tight together in intense concentration as if she was contemplating very important matters. “What about a witch?”

She considered it, appraising the selection of black witch dresses, ranging from long and jagged looking to frilly and poofy. “Uh-uh,” she decided, stepping further down the aisle. Felix wasn’t particularly surprised when she stopped again at the large section dedicated to super hero costumes.

She passed Wonder Woman and Batgirl and Super Girl before stopping dead in her tracks, turning back to Felix with a gappy smile that he was pretty sure in the years to come she would learn to weaponize against him, her little hand curling around the leg of the costume. “That’s the one?” he asked. She nodded earnestly, and Felix found one in her size and pulled it down off the rack.

~OoO~

Aria chatted happily as she and Sylvain walked back to the apartment after school. She skipped along next to him, her little curly pigtails bouncing. Apparently, costume day was on Friday, and she was excited to show off her new costume. Her new costume, which she refused to tell Sylvain what it was, deciding she would rather wait to show him when they got back.

She wasted no time throwing down her backpack on the couch the second they got inside, grabbing Sylvain by the hand and dragging him to her room to show him the costume. He’d never had a reason to go into her room before. The walls were the same off-white color as the rest of the apartment, of course, with a simple closet along the interior wall and a window set into the exterior wall.

A small bed sat in one corner in a simple wooden frame, piled with a half dozen stuffed animals. Teal curtains hung from the window, patterned with white butterflies. A toy box similar to that sitting in the living room sat underneath it, and a white dresser stood against the opposite wall. The room was mostly tidy, a few toys scattered here and there.

Aria, standing on her tip-toes, managed to pull a hanger off the rack in the closet and she presented it triumphantly to Sylvain.

“You’re going as Spider-Man?”

“Uh-huh! Isn’t it cool?”

“It’s very cool.” She beamed brightly, and Sylvain helped her return the hanger where it belonged. “Why did you decided to be Spider-Man?” he wondered as they headed back out into the living room.

“Spider-Man’s my favorite,” she said simply. “He’s really funny, and he beats the bad guys.” There was no arguing with that logic, he supposed. “Have you seen the Spider-Man movie?”

Sylvain had seen a lot of Spider-Man movies. “Which one?”

“The one with Miles and Gwen and Spider-Ham.”

“Spider-Ham?”

“He’s a pig.”

Sylvain blinked, confused and very suddenly remembered the Spider-Pig bit in the Simpsons movie he’d seen years ago; he highly doubted that was what she was talking about. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

Her eyes lit up. “Can we watch it?”

“Of course we can watch it,” he decided. “I love Spider-Man.”

Excited, she pulled up Netflix on the TV and found the movie all by herself – Sylvain was never _not_ impressed at the way kids seemed to be technology sponges, like it was second nature to them – and they settled in watching what ended up being a really cool movie, all things said and done. It was just finishing up when Felix got home.

Sylvain’s heart did the little flutter thing it liked to do when the dark-haired man stooped down to kiss Aria on the top of the head, the hard lines of his face smoothed out with affection. There were dark circles under his eyes – well, more so than normal – and his hair was just the slightest bit disheveled. Perhaps he’d had a long day at work. “She conned you into watching Spider-Man for the hundredth time, huh?”

“Well, I haven’t seen it before,” Sylvain laughed, “so it’s alright. It was good.”

Felix chuckled. “Better than watching Frozen three times a day.”

“Daddy,” Aria huffed in exasperation, crossing her arms, “don’t make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Pumpkin,” he assured her, lips tugged up in a fond smile as he ruffled her hair. “How do hot dogs sound for dinner?”

“Good!” Felix headed off toward the kitchen, seemingly having forgotten Sylvain entirely. Sylvain leaned against the cut-out between the kitchen and living room, watching as the man filled a pot with water and setting it on the stove to boil.

He glanced over, apparently just realizing Sylvain was still there. “Right,” he muttered, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, “I still owe you.” He pulled from a stack of bills, handing them over to Sylvain who didn’t even bother counting.

“So,” Sylvain mused, not quite wanting to leave yet and drawing out having to go just that little bit longer, “I got to see Aria’s Halloween costume.”

“That would explain the movie.”

“Yeah. She’s really excited. Where are you taking her trick-or-treating?”

Felix sighed, leaning against the counter top. “Probably just around here. I still don’t really know the city that well.”

Sylvain was reminded of his own years of trick-or-treating around his parents’ upscale neighborhood. “Well, if you don’t mind a bit of a drive, I think my parents’ neighborhood has trick-or-treat night scheduled for Sunday. It’s out of the city, and it’s a really safe neighborhood. And lots of the houses give out full-sized candy bars… or at least they did when I was a kid.” Nothing was more exciting on Halloween than getting full-sized candy bars, after all.

Felix considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, I’d hate to go somewhere I don’t know and end up getting lost.”

“Well, the thing is, it’s… well, it’s kind of a gated community-” Felix’s eyebrow arched slightly, as if to say _of course it is_ , “so if you want to go, I wouldn’t mind… you know, and you wouldn’t get lost-”

“Sylvain,” Felix sighed, cutting him off in the middle of his rambling, but he was smiling ever so slightly (that was a good sign, right?), “if you want to go with us, just say so.”

There was a beat of silence, just for a moment. “I want to go with you… if you-”

“Okay. Thank you for inviting us.”

And was it his imagination, or were Felix’s cheeks just the slightest bit pink…? It had to be his imagination, right? Yeah… “Uh, no problem.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I should probably get going. Um. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yeah, see you.” He said his goodbyes to Aria and headed out, head still reeling from what had just happened. He definitely hadn’t intended to make plans to butt into Felix and Aria’s trick-or-treating, but there he fucking was.

And Felix definitely did have to say yes, but he did, and Sylvain had no clue what to make of it. Realistically, he had no reason to want to have anything to do with Sylvain outside of their babysitting arrangement. It wasn’t like taking a kid out trick-or-treating was a two person job. He’d manage just fine on his own, and yet…

Sylvain tried (failed) not to spend the next couple of days reading too much into it. He did, if he did say so himself, do a pretty good job of playing cool when he hammered out the finer details with Felix after he got home on Thursday. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything, after all, nothing to stress over.

Of course, that’s what he told himself. When his friends Mercedes and Hilda dragged him out for drinks on Friday night at their favorite bar, a kind of hole-in-the-wall place that they’d accidentally stumbled into a couple years before, he found he couldn’t even bring himself to shamelessly flirt with the pretty patrons that laughed and danced to the safe pop music that blared from the speakers. Normally, he’d be scoping out his prospective flings, buying drinks, and dropping one of his litany of smooth pick-up lines that he thought would give him the best chance at waking up with a stranger in his bed in the morning.

Hilda and Mercedes were quick to notice something was amiss.

“What’s up with you tonight, Sylvain?” Hilda asked over the loud music. “There’s been, like, three people giving you the bedroom eyes and you’ve barely looked up from your phone.”

With a sigh, he sat it down, leaning his elbows on the tacky surface of the table and sipped slowly on his drink. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, I guess,” he offered when her sharp pink eyes continued piercing into him, refusing to accept his silence. “I’ve just got some stuff on my mind.”

“That’s usually when you try the hardest to find someone to take home,” Mercedes noted, her soft eyes amused and concerned in equal measure.

He slumped down. Why did his friends have to be so perceptive? Or, rather, why did he have to spend the most time with the ones who were? Maybe he should hang out with Dimitri more. The guy was oblivious as a box of rocks. He pushed down the pang of guilt in his chest with a long swig of his drink at the realization that, yes, he absolutely _should_ spend more time with Dimitri. But one problem at a time.

He was about to spew out some bullshit excuse when he caught sight of Hilda, grinning wide as if she’d discovered the juiciest secret in existence. “What?” he huffed.

“Who is it?” she demanded.

“Who’s who?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re seeing someone,” she guessed, “or you _want_ to be seeing someone.” Hilda didn’t like to show it often, but she was insanely good at reading people. Her eyes lit up as Sylvain tried to think of something say. “Ooh, is it the guy whose kid you’re babysitting?”

His brow furrowed. “How the fuck do you know about that?” he wondered. “I haven’t told anyone yet."

She smiled sweetly. “He works with Khalid and I.” And Sylvain wanted to smack himself. Of course he should have realized that; Felix’s Facebook page _said_ he worked at the Alliance Foundation. “He mentioned it to Khalid a couple weeks ago, and Khalid told me.”

“Who are we talking about?” Mercedes wondered, smiling conspiratorially at Hilda.

“This guy named Felix,” Hilda supplied before Sylvain could get a word in. “He dated Khalid in college-”

“He did?” Sylvain interrupted, confused. He had no idea – of course he didn’t, why would that have come up in casual conversation before? – but the confirmation that Felix was into guys hit Sylvain like a ton of bricks. Maybe he would stand a chance after all.

“Yeah, they met in the campus book store or something like that. They were together for, like, a year. It ended mutually, and when they graduated Khalid put in a good word to the old man and helped him get his job straight out of school.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Mercedes giggled.

“Anyway, he’s got the _cutest_ little girl,” Hilda continued, definitely talking to Mercedes rather than Sylvain, but she turned to him with appraising eyes. “I’m kind of surprised you’re going for a guy with a kid. And he’s always so grouchy and glarey. I mean, he’s a snack, for sure, but…” She shrugged.

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “I mean, I knew he had a kid _before_ I met him,” he countered. “But, I dunno.” He struggled for a moment to put it into words, sipping on his drink to stall for time. “He does glare a lot, but then you see the way he looks at Aria, and his face just gets all soft and I can’t help but wonder what it would take to make him look at me even half that soft, and I just…” He sighed. “And Aria’s so sweet. Like, they’re a package deal and I am here for it, you know?”

Mercedes looked like she was going to melt from cute overload, and Hilda was laughing into her drink. “Oh my god,” Hilda muttered, “you’ve got it so bad.” He shot her a half-hearted glare. “So, when are you going to ask him out?”

“I dunno,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to play it slow. I think if I push too hard, he’s just going to shut it down and, like, fire me. Although, I am taking him and Aria to my parents’ neighborhood to trick-or-treat on Sunday.”

The look Hilda regarded him with was positively withering. “What kind of lame date is that?”

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” Mercedes assured him, patting the back of his hand softly. “I think it’s wonderful, Sylvain.”

And maybe it would be wonderful, taking things slow and careful for a change, rather than just jumping in with both things and dealing with the consequences when he hit the bottom.


	6. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I kind of forgot I haven't updated this story in a while. I was scrolling through and noticed the date and was like... whoops? So, here you go.
> 
> Also, slight warning for implied bad father/son relationships and homophobia. It's not very overt, but it's there.

Sylvain showed up to Felix’s apartment at four o’clock on the dot. Trick-or-treat in his parents’ neighborhood started at five, and since Aria had to be up for school in the morning, they couldn’t stay out too late. Aria was already in her Spider-Man costume when Felix let him in with a half-assed huff of “you can let yourself in, you know, you have a key.” Her trick-or-treat bag had a picture of a happy little jack-o-lantern on it, and she swung it around as she acted out the way Spider-Man fought bad guys.

Felix ruffled her hair as he passed by. “Settle down a little, Pumpkin,” he laughed. “We’re going to be doing a lot of walking, and I’m not carrying you around all evening because you wore yourself out.” She giggled, flopping down on the couch.

“Oh, Sylvain!” she said, finally taking note of him and jumping up to hug him around the legs.

“Are you excited?” he asked as she released him, sitting on the couch to wait.

“Yeah.”

“Gonna get a whole bunch of candy?” She nodded eagerly. “Well, if Daddy doesn’t eat it all first, right?”

“Daddy doesn’t like candy.”

He blinked, confused. Who didn’t like candy? “He doesn’t?” She shook her head.

“He doesn’t what?” Felix asked, wandering back into the room with a purple hair brush, some bobby pins, and a couple hair elastics.

“You don’t like candy?”

He made a face as he sat down on the other end of the couch. “I’m not a fan of sweets.”

“Why is that not a surprise?” Sylvain sighed, earning a roll of Felix’s eyes.

“Come here, Pumpkin,” he told Aria, waving her over with the brush. She stood at his knees with her back to him and he started running the brush through her waves of long, dark hair with expert strokes. Sylvain watched, letting himself take a moment to appreciate the way his fingers worked deftly to twist the stands of her hair into sleek twin braids before pinning them down against her scalp with the bobby pins. Sylvain assumed it was so the Spider-Man mask would lay flat. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry,” he said, sheepish. “You’re really good at that.”

“My hair’s been long enough to braid since I was sixteen,” he explained. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“You teach yourself?”

His lips pursed slightly. “No, a friend taught me.” Sylvain got the impression Felix didn’t want to talk about it and let it drop.

“So… Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Felix sat the brush down on the table and stood, gathering his and Aria’s jackets off the rack. After making sure everything was turned off, and that Aria had her mask and bag in hand, he ushered the girl toward the door.

The three of them made their way out of the building together, with Aria filling the silence with the idle chatter of a five year old that Sylvain had become familiar with over the past couple of weeks. While it had been agreed that they would take Sylvain’s car – he knew the way, after all, so it would make sense that he should be the one driving – they made a quick stop off at Felix’s to grab Aria’s car seat.

Felix’s car, Sylvain found, was a dark blue late 2000s Honda Civic. It was in very nice condition considering its age, though Sylvain couldn’t help but wonder how many miles had to be on it. It likely would have been at least a few years old when Felix got it, after all. Nosy, Sylvain couldn’t help but peer inside, taking note of the clutter that occupied the empty seats; sweaters and toys and old shopping bags, oh my.

“Are you judging my car?” Felix snapped sharply, standing up with the car seat tucked awkwardly under one arm.

“Of course not,” Sylvain laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “The word ‘judging’ implies that my opinion of you would be affected, and I really don’t care that much about cars. You could drive an old beater for all I care.”

Felix eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “Fine.” He locked his car back up and they headed to Sylvain’s, parked on the other end of the lot. Ridiculously, Sylvain felt kind of self-conscious about his own car as he pressed the button on the key fob to open it up for them. He could _feel_ Felix’s eyes shifting between the car and him. “Your parents got you a brand new car when you graduated, didn’t they?”

That was… exactly what happened. His father had taken him to a car dealership a couple days after he graduated high school, and he picked out a shiny new silver 2013 Hyundai Sonata. The man had scoffed that he could have gotten a ‘nicer’ car, but Sylvain felt scummy enough just being handed a car anyway. He’d named her Antigone (Annie for short), though the only people he’d ever told that were Dimitri and Mercedes.

He glanced back at Felix, relieved to see a teasing smirk on his face as he moved toward the back door. “Now who’s judging?” he joked, opening the door for Felix like a gentleman and taking advantage of the opportunity to check out his butt when he bent over to strap the seat in.

“The word ‘judging’ implies that my opinion of you would be affected.”

“Yeah?” Sylvain chuckled as Felix stepped back and helped Aria buckle herself in. “I’m curious. What is your opinion of me?” Shameless.

Felix was silent as he considered this, straightening up and closing the door. He held Sylvain’s eyes for a long moment. “That’s a good question,” he decided, pushing past Sylvain and opening the passenger side door. “I’ll let you know.”

Sylvain stood there, speechless. What the hell? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Shaking his head, Sylvain rounded the car and climbed in. That would have to be a discussion for another day, he supposed. _Just taking it slow_ , he reminded himself. _Let’s just get through trick-or-treating first_.

~OoO~

_What is your opinion of me_? The question had been buzzing around Felix’s brain like an agitated bee for the past half hour as they drove God-only-knew-where out of the city toward whatever fancy gated community Sylvain had grown up in. _I’m curious. What is your opinion of me?_

As if Felix was going to answer that. As if he _could_ answer that, when it was asked so casually, so effortlessly. Felix couldn’t help but peer over at Sylvain as he chatted, animated and unaffected, telling Aria funny stories about Halloween when he was growing up, or silly ghost stories that wouldn’t actually scare her. And, God, why did his natural, effortless rapport with Aria make Felix’s chest warm and tight?

_What is your opinion of me?_

It was almost five o’clock. The sun was already sinking low in the sky; by seven, it would be dark. While they weren’t far out of the bustle of the city, it was nice. Felix hadn’t had much of a chance to see it since moving there, only what they’d passed through on the drive from Ohio. In Ohio, it was pretty much all corn until you reached civilization.

Sylvain slowed way down as they pulled onto a nicely kept drive that wound up to a fancy looking gate. There was a gatehouse, but no one inside. “Hey, there’s a keycard in the glove compartment,” he told Felix. “Can you find it for me?”

Felix popped the glove compartment and was almost shocked to see how tidy it was. There was an envelope right on top marked ‘Registration and Insurance’ in neat handwriting, followed by a few other papers that seemed to be important. No hastily shoved receipts or extra napkins and ketchup packets from various drive-throughs. In fact, his whole car was clean and well-kept. There was even a little vent clip air freshener that made the car smell of something warm and spicy that made Felix think of the cologne he’d noticed Sylvain wearing when they first met.

The keycard wasn’t hard to find in the neatly organized compartment, and Felix did his best not to mess it up as he rifled through, handing it over to Sylvain. Sylvain scanned it at the little box that jutted out near the window, earning a little beep and blinking green light before the gate lifted up for Sylvain to drive through.

“Woah,” Aria muttered from the back. “That was neat.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain laughed. “It is pretty neat, isn’t it?” He handed it back over for Felix to return to the glove compartment, making his way through winding streets, past houses that Felix was sure were in the neighborhood of a quarter million up. Lawns were perfectly manicured with tasteful décor. All the cars in the driveways were shiny and new. Compared to the nice middle-class suburb Felix’s family lived in, this was a completely different world.

He could feel Sylvain’s eyes darting over to him as they drove. “You really grew up here?” Felix couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Heh,” Sylvain laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah. I did. I know, it’s… a lot.”

“I’m honestly more concerned how your brother grew up here and ended up… like he is.”

“He’s always been like that,” Sylvain muttered in an offhand sort of way, as if that explained anything.

“Your father’s a lawyer, right?”

“Yup.”

“Did you ever consider going into law?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, he wanted me to, but all of that sh…” He spared a glance in the rear view mirror toward Aria, humming to herself as she watched all the pretty houses go by. “Stuff… bores me to tears. Dad was furious when I went into digital design. So, I guess if I have anything in common with my brother, it’s disappointing dear old Dad.” He laughed, as if it was a funny joke, but he trailed off slowly. “Anyway, now you have to tell me about your dad.”

Felix arched an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“I told you about mine. It’s only fair.”

He rolled his eyes, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. “There’s not really a lot to say. My dad is an insurance agent. My mom’s a nurse. They didn’t really care what I decided to major in in college, or that Glenn didn’t even go to college. Happy?”

“As a clam.” Sylvain turned down another lane and his brow creased slightly. Quite a few expensive cars lined the street on either side, clearly more than the redhead had expected. “Of course they’d be having their ‘Halloween party’ tonight,” he sighed.

“Your parents throw a Halloween party?” Somehow, that didn’t mesh with the mental image Felix had built of the Gautier family.

“Any excuse for my mom to show off the house,” he laughed, nodding his head to one of the houses that, honestly, was more on the modest side of those they’d driven by so far, as if any of them could actually be called ‘modest.’ “It’s just a bunch of my dad’s rich clients and the neighbors. Not really any Halloween or party to be found.”

He carefully maneuvered the car to a stop in a gap between a BMW and a Lexus – Felix noted with some relief that he’d definitely proved himself a good driver – and cut the engine. Felix helped Aria out of the back seat and helped her pull her Spider-Man mask on. With their jackets and Aria’s bag in hand, they joined Sylvain on the sidewalk.

“Might as well start here,” he decided, already turning to walk up the drive to his parents’ house. A bowl of, as Sylvain had predicted, full-sized candy bars sat on a small table on the porch with a note written in loopy cursive that read _take one_. Aria’s eyes went big as she eyed the options available, standing on her tip-toes to see over the edge of the bowl.

“Decide what you want before you reach in the bowl,” Felix reminded her, “so you don’t get germs on candy for the other kids.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Sylvain was leaning against the pristine white railing, shifting uncomfortably as he peered inside. The door was open wide with a tasteful fall wreath hanging on display, the doorway closed off with a spotless glass door. Felix glanced in out of curiosity.

There wasn’t a hint of Halloween decorations to be seen on the inside, thought minimalist fall décor was expertly placed on every neatly kept surface that Felix was able to see. A color scheme of white, gray, and maroon abounded, giving the feeling of an impersonal movie set house rather than one that was meant to be lived in, from the gleaming hardwood floor to the artfully arranged wall hangings. Picture perfect, but far from homey.

A few people milled around inside. The men wore slacks and nice button-downs, the women evening dresses and heels. No jeans or, Heaven forbid, Halloween costumes. The chatted and sipped on glasses of wine, taking no notice of the trick-or-treaters standing on the porch.

Aria held up her prize – a package of Reese’s Cups – and stowed it in her bag. The three of them were just starting to turn back when a soft, “Sylvain!” caught their attention from the other side of the glass. Sylvain’s shoulders slumped as he spun back around. Apparently, he’d hoped to go unnoticed.

A woman in a dark red dress, with long, sleek chestnut hair opened the door, stepping out to give the redhead a hug. He returned it awkwardly. “Hey, Aunt Susan.” Even with the heels the woman was wearing, Sylvain stood almost a head taller than her.

“Your mother didn’t tell me you would be here.”

“Oh, she doesn’t know I’m here,” he said quickly. “I’m not staying, I’m just-”

“Temperance!” the woman called back inside, ignoring her nephew who quite visibly deflated and looked like he’d rather be just about anywhere else. A woman who looked quite like Susan rounded a corner. This woman, Temperance – Sylvain’s mom, Felix presumed – wore a silver dress that glimmered in the soft light inside, and her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. “You have a gate-crasher.”

She looked over Susan’s shoulder, brow furrowed, until she caught sight of Sylvain who seemed to be seriously considering making a run for it. “Honey, you didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Sorry, Mom,” he said sheepishly, shooting an apologetic look over at Felix as his mother joined them on the porch. “I wasn’t planning on staying. My friend needed somewhere to take his kid trick-or-treating, so I thought I’d take them around.”

Mrs. Gautier glanced over at them as if she’d only just noticed they were standing there. “Is this the friend you’ve been babysitting for?”

“Yeah. This is Felix.”

She smiled down at Aria, just for a moment before her face drew down in confusion. “I thought you were babysitting a little girl?”

“I am a girl!” Aria huffed indignantly before Sylvain answer, pulling off her mask as if to prove her point. “My name’s Aria.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.” She looked abashed, having apparently been thrown off by the Spider-Man costume. “Aria, do you like caramel apples?” She nodded eagerly. “Would you like one?”

Aria glanced up at Felix, batting her big green eyes. “Can I, Daddy?”

“Go ahead.”

Mrs. Gautier took Aria by the hand and started heading inside. “You boys make yourselves at home,” she called back to them. “There are drinks in the kitchen.”

Sylvain sighed and started slinking in after her. “Sorry about this,” he muttered as they passed through the mingling crowd, horribly out of place in their jeans and t-shirts.

“It’s fine.”

Mrs. Gautier led Aria to the left, into an open dining room. The table was laden with light finger foods that Felix was willing to bet were provided by some expensive caterer. In the center of the table was a tray of caramel apples, the sticky caramel shiny in the light. They looked entirely untouched, and Felix guessed that they were more there for decoration than for the guests to actually eat. Mrs. Gautier pulled out a chair for Aria, and the girl climbed up, eyes locked on her gooey, yummy prize. The woman carefully selected the apple from the center, keeping the symmetrical arrangement in tact.

Sylvain, meanwhile, led Felix to the right, into a gorgeous modern kitchen straight out of a catalog that his mother liked to drool over. The center island had a selection of glasses, some for wine with delicate stems, some for something stronger. The something stronger, Felix took to be a bowl of cider sitting on the stove that filled the air with the warm aroma of apples, spice, and general fallness.

“You want a glass?” Sylvain asked, moving to grab himself one off the glasses off the counter. “And don’t worry, I’m only having a tiny bit.” He demonstrated this by using a decorative harvest gold colored ladle to fill only about a quarter of his cup. “Mom’ll make a fuss if I don’t have any.”

“That’s a weird thing to get upset over.”

Sylvain laughed, already ladling a glass out for Felix, even though he hadn’t answered whether he wanted any or not. Felix’s glass ended up slightly more full, closer to half, which he supposed was fair since he wasn’t drinking. “Yeah, well, that’s my family.” Shaking his head lightly, Felix lifted the glass to take a drink. “Oh, fair warning, Mom’s a _bit_ heavy handed with the rum.”

And that she was. The cider, at least, tasted good, but Felix was grateful for Sylvain’s foresight that less would be more. Drinks in hand, the two of them headed toward the dining room, where Mrs. Gautier and Aunt Susan, as well as a couple other women in expensive dresses, were fawning over Aria as she sat munching on her caramel apple. Seeing their arrival, Mrs. Gautier stepped away and joined them by the wall.

“Felix, wasn’t it?” He nodded briskly. “Sylvain’s told me a lot about you.” Felix cast a glance at Sylvain, eyebrow arched. Sylvain looked like he wanted to curl up and die, and Felix couldn’t help but laugh a little. “All good things, of course.”

“Mom.”

“What? It’s true.”

Before Sylvain could shoot something in return, a man with hair just as bright red as Sylvain’s came up behind Mrs. Gautier, wrapping a hand around her waist. His hair was streaked through in places with silver, and it was trimmed short and neatly groomed back. He had similar broad shoulders, standing around the same height as Sylvain. Who else could he have been but Sylvain’s dad?

“Ah, Sylvain. I thought I heard your aunt talking about you.”

“Hey, Dad.” It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome on either end.

Mr. Gautier’s eyes fell on Felix, and he offered out his hand. “Andrew Gautier.” Stiff, formal, like they were there conducting business rather than at a ‘Halloween party.’

Felix shook his hand briskly. “Felix Fraldarius.”

The man cocked his head to the side. “Fraldarius,” he echoed. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“He’s Glenn’s brother,” Sylvain offered helpfully.

“Glenn?”

“Glenn is Miklan’s…” Sylvain’s voice trailed off slowly as Mr. Gautier’s shoulders went stiff, jaw setting in a hard line. “Yeah, uh, he’s Glenn’s brother.”

“I see.” The awkwardness in the air was palpable. “The tattoo artist.” Suddenly, all of Sylvain’s apparent reluctance when talking about his father earlier made sense. Felix, so far, wasn’t a fan.

“I told you about Felix,” Mrs. Gautier reminded him gently, smiling through the discomfort. “He’s got the little girl that Sylvain’s been babysitting.” She gestured over to Aria, who was still surrounded by doting middle-aged women.

Mr. Gautier shook his head. “I told you if you needed money-”

“It’s not about the money, Dad,” Sylvain said quickly, earning a sharp look for cutting his father off. “I’m just helping a friend.”

“Well, I think it’s sweet,” his mom chimed in. “Aria’s very sweet, Felix. So well-mannered.”

“Right,” he muttered, never sure how to respond to unsolicited compliments about his daughter’s behavior (they got a lot of them in the grocery store). “Thanks.”

“And I think it’s lovely that such a young man is willing to take care of a child all by yourself.”

“Mom,” Sylvain sighed, getting more exasperated the longer this conversation went on.

“Though, Sylvain didn’t tell me, why is her mother out of the picture?”

Before Felix could even open his mouth to tell her that it was none of her business, Sylvain snapped. “Maybe I didn’t tell you because it’s none of our business. _Maybe_ Felix doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Mrs. Gautier was taken aback, staring blankly between the two of them for a moment. “Oh, you’re right. How rude of me. I’m sorry.” Without waiting for a response, she bustled off, looking rather upset.

Felix decided he was rather tired of Sylvain’s family and walked off to grab Aria. She was nearly done with her apple and followed happily when he grabbed her hand and led her toward the kitchen to throw away the core still impaled on the stick. As they passed Sylvain, eyes glazed over as his father scolded him for ‘talking to his mother like that,’ he shot the redhead a look that said _we’ll meet you outside_. After setting what was left of his glass next to the sink and finding the trashcan, they made their way outside without being stopped.

Sylvain joined them a few minutes later, looking thoroughly irritated. “Sorry about that,” he said, already starting to lead them down the sidewalk away from the house. “My parents can be… a lot.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still…”

The sky overhead growing dusky and the paths through the gated community starting to crawl with costumed children and what seemed to be apathetic older siblings, the three of them finally got started trick-or-treating.


	7. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Some questionable office-place banter that could be considered sexual harassment. At very least, it is inappropriate workplace conversation.
> 
> Totally unrelated side note: Hilda's kind of a bitch in this story (or at least in this chapter), and I didn't intend for that to happen, it just kind of did. I love Hilda as a character, but she's pretty awful here.

They made it back to Felix’s apartment building at around a quarter to eight. Aria had gotten quite the haul, her bag full to bursting with full-sized candy bars. A few houses even gave out cans of soda, and while Aria politely accepted at the houses where there were actually people handing out the treats rather than a basket on the porch, those ended up staying with Sylvain as Felix and Aria didn’t really drink pop. But over all, it was the kind of Halloween Felix and Glenn (mostly Glenn, though, as Felix had never much liked candy) could have only dreamed of as children.

Aria was already nodding off in the back seat when they pulled to a stop in the parking lot, her jacket slung over her like a blanket. “Thanks for coming with us,” Felix muttered, only a little awkwardly.

Sylvain beamed. “Of course. It was fun. Well,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively, “the part _after_ dealing with my parents, anyway.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, taking a five-year-old trick-or-treating is every twenty-something guy’s idea of a good time.”

“I mean it.” There was something earnest in his voice, and Felix couldn’t help but believe him. “I like hanging out with you two.” And Felix was very grateful for the darkness, the only light provided by a flickering streetlight a few cars away, because his stupid pale skin couldn’t be trusted not to flush. “I’m sorry again about my parents, though.”

“You worry too much.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, slumping back and running a hand through his hair. “Can I ask you one thing, though?”

“You can _ask_. I might answer.”

“Fair.” He was silent for a moment, staring intently at Felix. “My mom didn’t… upset you or anything, right?” Felix arched an eyebrow, though he was sure the effect was a little dampened by the lack of light. “I mean, when she asked about Aria’s…”

“Her mom?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, a little sheepish. “You don’t have to tell me about it, I just wanted to make sure she didn’t make a complete ass out of herself and-”

“Sylvain,” he cut him off with a sigh. “No, she didn’t upset me.” Sylvain was silent for a moment, as if trying to figure out if Felix was being honest or deflecting to make him stop talking. He rolled his eyes. “Her mom’s not dead, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed. And Felix couldn’t help but snort in laughter at the genuine relief in his voice. Had he been fretting about that all night, worried that his mom had carelessly dredged up painful memories within five minutes of meeting Felix? Based on what he knew about Sylvain, yes. Yes, he had been. “What? Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” he snickered, not really sorry.

“It was a valid concern,” he protested. “It’s something that’s never come up, and when she started asking invasive questions, I realized that it might not be something you liked to be asked about.”

“Well, thanks for your concern,” he relented, throwing Sylvain a modicum of a bone. He glanced at the clock, it’s luminous almost glaringly bright. “I should get her to bed.”

“Right.” Felix opened the door, the brisk air jarring compared to the comfy warmth of the car. He managed to pull a sleepy Aria out of her car seat, juggling the seat itself and her bag of candy with one arm while holding her hand with the other. “Night, Sylvain.”

“Night.” Aria offered a lethargic wave as they headed back toward Felix’s car to drop off the car seat before heading inside.

~OoO~

Felix found himself distracted as he typed away robotically at work the next morning, broken up with the occasional swig of bitter black coffee courtesy of whatever overachiever came in a few minutes early each morning to make the first pot for the office. His conversation with Sylvain from the night before had been nagging in his brain since practically the moment the car door had closed behind him, and he couldn’t shake it away.

He’d shared more than he meant to… and he meant to share nothing. It was just so easy to let his guard down around Sylvain and his easygoing smile. The situation of Felix’s family was literally none of the man’s concern, and Felix had every intention of keeping it that way, but when faced with Sylvain’s genuine concern about possibly upsetting Felix (or, he supposed, upsetting him by proxy, in the case of the night before), Felix couldn’t help but offer him some small scraps of information that would at least ease his worries.

Honestly, he was kind of surprised that Glenn had never mentioned it, or that Sylvain hadn’t thought to ask his brother. Glenn wasn’t nearly as private a person as Felix, and probably would have had no qualms about dealing out the information offhandedly. It wasn’t exactly some tragic backstory, after all, just a mutual breakup between two people who realized they weren’t a good fit.

He heard the familiar chime of Hilda’s cellphone before the pink-haired menace came into sight, easily recognized by the bubbly, pop tune that at times seemed to be a near constant background noise in the office. She sauntered into Felix’s shared cubical, some sugary monstrosity of a drink in a clear grande Starbucks cup held in one perfectly manicured hand, wearing the smirk that he knew from experience meant she had gossip that she wanted to talk about.

Felix sighed. He’d had no patience for gossip in high school despite the way it abounded, around him in particular during his senior year – surprise, surprise, knocking up your girlfriend in high school generated a lot of chatter – and he’d kind of hoped that sort of bullshit would have died off by the time he had a job working among people who were supposedly college-educated professionals, but he’d found no such luck working at Alliance.

She leaned suggestively against his desk, giving him a knowing look as he stared up at her blankly. “Can I help you, Hilda?” he asked briskly.

“How was trick-or-treating with the _babysitter_ last night?” she wondered in a sing-song tone.

He blinked, brow furrowing. “How’d you know about that?” He hadn’t told anyone except Glenn about it, and as far as he knew, his brother didn’t know Hilda in any capacity.

She flipped a long pig tail over her shoulder dramatically, looking entirely too smug. “Sylvain’s, like, my bestie.” He groaned, sinking a little into his chair. Of course those two knew each other. He silently cursed Khalid for withholding _that_ little tidbit, sure that he was well aware. “We went to high school together. Anyway, we went out for drinks Friday night and he told us all about it.”

Curiosity tugged at him like a magnet, and despite his general loathing for gossip, he couldn’t help but ask, “What was there to tell?”

Hilda grinned like a cat, knowing full-well she had him hook, line, and sinker. “Oh, not much,” she dismissed, examining her pink nails as if disinterested in the conversation despite the fact that _she’d_ sought _him_ out. “Just that he dumped his plans to go to some Halloween bash at this club we go to, just to take you and Aria trick-or-treating.”

Felix’s stomach flopped. “He did?” he mused before he could stop himself. Sylvain hadn’t mentioned having plans. And he just dropped them, like that? Over something as trivial as taking a kid out on Halloween? Felix wasn’t sure how to feel about that, that Sylvain was actively foregoing his social life in order to spend time with them.

“Who are we talking about?” Ashe’s voice flitted over as he rounded the corner, a much more reasonable-looking cup of coffee from the shop down the street in hand.

“Oh, just Felix’s hottie babysitter who I’m pretty sure Felix is still trying to pretend he isn’t totally into,” Hilda summarized with a sugary sweet smile, eyes glittering as Felix’s cheeks heated.

“Oh, shut up,” he huffed, turning back to his computer screen.

“So, I take this to mean the date didn’t end with you two fu-”

Leonie, who up until that point had been silently watching Hilda’s gossip unfold, finally spoke up, cutting her off. “Don’t you have actual _work_ to do, Hilda?” she wondered, eyebrow arched. “Last time I checked, butting into your coworkers’ personal lives isn’t part of your job.”

Hilda glared, not breaking eye contact as she took a long sip of her diabetes-inducing drink. “Whatever. I was just having some fun.” With a huff, she spun on her heel. “But, seriously, Felix, he’s _super_ into you. If you’re going to jump on that train, best do it now. Sylvain won't stay interested long if he has to work too hard to get that ass.” And she was gone.

Silence fell over the three of them in the moments that followed. “Do you think it’s sexual harassment if she’s trying to convince you to sleep with someone else?” Ashe wondered a moment later, entirely too innocently for the subject matter.

“I think so?” Leonie muttered.

“Just drop it,” Felix growled, scowling at his screen and already typing furiously as he tried to subdue his ridiculous blush by sheer force of will.

~OoO~

The restaurant was bustling with midday patrons as Sylvain made his way inside, brushing past people and peering over heads as he scanned the occupied tables. It was hard to hear himself think over the incessant chatter and the hum of the TVs playing various sporting events and news reports, but that was part of the magic of sports bars, he supposed.

Dimitri was hard to miss. While he only had about an inch on Sylvain, his bulk made Sylvain seem small in comparison. Sylvain was no slouch in the muscle department, his regular trips to the gym and consistent use of his own home equipment ensuring as much, but where Sylvain was toned, Dimitri was ripped. Plus, the shaggy blond hair and ominous looking eye patch kind of added to the overall… burly viking vibe he tended to exude.

On that particular day, his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, leaving only a few stands loose over his blind right side. The effect was pretty cute, if one could aptly use the word ‘cute’ to describe a jacked 6’2” man. He _did_ still kinda have a baby-face, despite his size, so Sylvain decided the description was fair enough.

Sylvain slid into the booth across from him, pulling Dimitri’s attention away from his cellphone. His single blue eye blinked in surprise (Sylvain had come from his blind side, and had forgotten to make himself known first), but it quickly changed to delight. “I was afraid you forgot!”

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to force down the pang of guilt that had been swelling in his stomach since he’d texted Dimitri for the first time in months a few days before. “Traffic, you know.”

“It’s quite alright.” Fondness curled up alongside the guilt; he was always so proper, it also didn’t really match the whole vibe he gave off to those who didn’t know him. “I haven’t been waiting long, so it’s really no worry.”

“No Dedue?” he wondered, noting the lack of the even _larger_ man he’d half-expected to accompany Dimitri. If Dimitri was ripped, Dedue was the fucking Hulk, standing just closer to seven feet tall than six. Yet, despite his massive size, the man was actually very kind, soft-spoken, and tender. Somehow, Dimitri had found himself a man that matched his whole gentle giant thing.

“Ah, no, Dedue was called in to cover someone’s shift at work this morning. He asked me to pass along his regards.”

“Tell him I said, ‘hey,’ too, then.”

“I will.”

Their conversation was paused by the waitress coming over to ask for their order; neither needed to so much as glance at the menu. Once upon a time, the two of them had been regulars, and they pretty much always ordered the same thing.

You know, until Sylvain ensured that things fell apart, as he always did. Once again, the guilt rose like bile in his throat, and he spared a long glance at Dimitri, who was animatedly telling him a story about his and Dedue’s trip to the botanical gardens over the summer. Smiling, like nothing had ever happened.

Like Sylvain hadn’t toyed with his feelings and run off when he was spiraling into a dark place.

“Are you alright, Sylvain?” Dimitri asked suddenly, eye full of concern.

“Oh, yeah,” he kinda lied. “I’m good.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

Sylvain sighed, sipping on the glass of water – when had the waitress brought those? – in an attempt to stall answering. So much for Dimitri being oblivious as a box of rocks. “I dunno. I guess I still feel pretty shitty about ghosting you these past couple of months.” And years. While they finally reconnected about two years before, both different people in better, more stable mental states than they’d been in the three years they spent apart, Sylvain could never quite manage to forgive himself for being the shitty person he was back then. And that kind of leaked out into still not talking to Dimitri as much as he should have. What a great friend he was.

“We’ve both been busy,” Dimitri dismissed in that way that was so very Dimitri, always so eager to forgive and move on, to excuse Sylvain’s behavior. “I could have tried harder to reach out to you, as well.”

Sylvain ran a hand through his hair. “I know, it’s just…”

“Sylvain, I know you still feel bad,” he said evenly, surprising the redhead. Since when was Dimitri so perceptive? He’d certainly grown a lot, and Sylvain still couldn’t fathom why Dimitri still seemed to want to be friends with a jerk like him. “But all of that is in the past. I forgave you a long time ago.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he snorted, idly stirring the ice in his cup with the straw.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

“One of us has to.”

Dimitri smiled, so fond and patient. “I don’t know about you, but I would much rather talk about more pleasant things than dredge up all of that old baggage.”

“You’re right,” Sylvain relented. And off Dimitri went again. If nothing else, Sylvain _did_ feel a little bit better after getting the reassurance that Dimitri wasn’t secretly harboring a grudge, not that he’d really thought he _was_.

Their meal came, and it was nice, catching up again over burgers and fries. Sylvain made a mental note to actively _not_ ghost Dimitri again, to make a conscious effort to make plans and be a better friend. You have to start somewhere, right?

Their plates were clean, and they were waiting on their cards back from the waitress so they could head out when Sylvain’s phone pinged with a text. His heart did the little flutter it tended to do when he saw it was Felix, but his brow furrowed as he read it, the words very clearly dripping with irritation.

> **Felix: Could you tell your FRIEND Hilda to stay out of my personal business???**


	8. Conflict Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been so long since I've updated this. Life got super crazy. I went back to work. And now I'm a holiday behind, about to be two, because I intended to have a Thanksgiving chapter out last month and a Christmas chapter out this month, and that just didn't end up happening. Oops.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Hilda huffed, scowling pointedly away like she did when she got defensive. The music of the bar pulsed like a heartbeat around them, forcing them to practically shout at each other to be heard. “I was trying to _help_ you.”

“That’s your idea of helping me?” he scoffed. “After the earful I got, I’m pretty sure Felix wouldn’t talk to me again if he didn’t need a babysitter.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, spare me the dramatics, Sylvain.” He glared, pretty sure he was the one who should have been saying that to her. “We both know he’s way too into you for that. Besides, all I did was tell him you were into him, too.”

“I never asked you to tell him anything,” he protested, ignoring the fact that that was definitely not _all_ she did and trying very had to stamp down the irritation that was bubbling in his chest, like a can of soda, shaken and ready to burst at the pull of a tab. Hilda had that effect on people, he’d known that for a long time. Sylvain generally thought himself immune to her gossipy, mean-girl side (she wasn’t always like that, after all, and it usually wasn’t directed at him). “What part of me saying I was trying to take things slow did you not understand?”

She finally met his gaze, perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching. “You were serious about that?”

“ _Yes_.” She blinked slowly, seeming like she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

“You never take things slow.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How was I supposed to know?” she complained, back on the defensive.

He took a deep breath. What was done was done. Obviously, she couldn’t _unsay_ the things she’d said, and he couldn’t make Felix magically forget about them. All there was to do was just move forward and hope she hadn’t royally screwed his chances. “Just… stay out of my relationships, okay?”

She sulked, sinking down into her seat, flicking the straw around her untouched glass of some fruity, pink cocktail. “Yeah, yeah. Khalid already laid into me about it, alright? I get it.” He wasn’t too sure she did, but hopefully hearing the same message from multiple sides would make it stick a little more.

He let it go with a sigh. “So I wasn’t the only one he complained to?” he wondered.

“Nope. Khalid said I’m lucky he didn’t file a formal complaint for sexual harassment.” She rolled her eyes, and Sylvain idly wondered if she felt like _she_ was the victim in all of this. Like, he knew Hilda lived in her own little world sometimes, but certainly she couldn’t be _that_ deluded. “Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” he and Mercedes answered in tandem.

“I think you should apologize to him, Hilda,” Mercedes offered, sipping slowly on her own drink. “From what Sylvain said, it sounds like you weren’t being very kind and made Felix very uncomfortable.”

She shot Mercie a withering look. “What am I, one of your kindergartners?” she snorted.

Mercie smiled patiently. “Conflict resolution is a very important skill, for children and adults. If you’re in the wrong, a sincere apology goes a long way to-”

“Fiiiine,” Hilda moaned, cutting Merice off before she could launch into some teaching thing. She slumped back in her seat, grumbling. “Everyone’s ganging up on me now.”

Sylvain stared at her pointedly. “I can’t imagine why.”

They didn’t stay much longer, none of them really in the mood for a night out when they were still somewhat at odds with each other, the tension in the air too thick to ignore. Sylvain, who hadn’t even finished his one drink, drove himself home in silence. He was still trying to temper his frustration, hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel as he took himself through a breathing exercise his therapist from a few years before had taught him. He was still pretty miffed by the time he pulled into his apartment’s parking garage, but less, so that was good.

It was getting kind of late when he let himself into his apartment, feeling weary down to his bones as he stripped down to his boxers and fell into bed. He checked his phone, staring blankly at the screen, its almost painfully bright display casting the only light in the room.

Would Felix still be up, he wondered.

“Fuck it.” He texted him, hoping he wouldn’t be waking the man up and drawing even more of his ire.

> **Me: I talked to Hilda about what you told me. I don’t think she’ll bother you again.**
> 
> **Me: Sorry again about what happened.**

He watched the screen, waiting anxiously for a response. Maybe Felix was asleep and he just hadn’t seen it. Then _Read 10:49 PM_ popped up under his messages.

Sylvain didn’t blink as he waited, barely even daring to breathe. Maybe Felix was busy when he looked, he tried to convince himself when the minutes ticked by with no answer. Or maybe Sylvain had woken him up, and now he was even more mad.

He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it pinged exactly twelve minutes later.

> **Felix: It’s fine** _**.** _

And what the fuck was Sylvain supposed to make out of a two-word response? Was he still irritated, and just being passive-aggressive? Was the tone meant to be scathing, clearly _not_ fine? Was it… _actually_ fine? Sylvain sighed, tossing his phone on the night stand without plugging it in.

He didn’t want to keep bothering Felix if the man was already mad or trying to sleep. He rolled over, pulling his blanket over himself. Maybe if he wrapped himself up tight enough in a soft, blankety cocoon, if he made himself cozy enough, sleep would take him quickly. You know, instead of letting him anguish in anxiety-induced insomnia through the span of the night, unable to drift off until the first rays of morning light started peeking through the blinds.

_Ping!_

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying there, but it was long enough that when cast a glance over his shoulder, the light of his screen stabbed painfully into his retinas. Unknotting himself from his cocoon was almost more effort than he was willing to expend, briefly considering just letting the text go unread.

With a heavy sigh, he scrambled for his phone. He blinked against the blinding light, trying to turn it down quickly through watering, slitted eyes until he managed to fumble his way to the brightness slider and drop it down to the lowest setting, a much more reasonable amount of light in the pitch black of his bedroom.

Blinking away the light-induced tears in his eyes, he glanced at the time. 11:13. Only ten minutes had passed, less than he would have guessed. Time seemed to crawl when Sylvain was upset, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw another text from Felix.

> **Felix: Sorry I yelled at you. It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.**

Sylvain stared at the text for a long time, vaguely wondering if he’d fallen asleep after all, and it was just a dream born of wishful thinking. Still, it would be rude not to reply.

> **Me: No worries, man :)**

There were no more text messages – he waited up an extra half an hour just to be sure. When he curled up again, it was with a much less burdened mind, and he fell asleep with ease.

~OoO~  
  


He texted only briefly with Felix over the next couple of days. While he was trying to determine just from a few, scant business-only messages whether Hilda had completely crippled his chances with the man, he didn’t want to seem too pushy or forward about it. Tuesday rolled around somehow both terrifyingly quickly and obnoxiously slowly.

Just like every Tuesday afternoon, Aria was waiting in the lobby of the school’s front entrance to be picked up, teachers milling about to keep an eye on students. She was sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick sweater meant to stave off the chilly fall air, but unlike most days, she didn’t bounce up at the sight of Sylvain. Her head hanging, eyes downcast, legs swinging dejectedly where they couldn’t reach the ground.

He came to a stop in front of her, sort of at a loss. He’d never seen her so much as pout. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, sitting down next to her. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t even look up at him, just hung her head even further. “Nothing.”

It certainly didn’t seem like nothing, but Sylvain wasn’t sure if pressing the matter would help or just make things worse. “Alright… Come on, we should get you home.” She took his hand when he offered it, walking with slouched shoulders toward his car in the crowded lot. He kept an eye on her in the rear-view mirror as he drove, the car eerily silent, devoid of her animated report of all the fun things she’d done at school. Instead, she just stared out the window.

Her mood didn’t pick up by the time they made it back to the apartment. “Do you want a snack?” he offered. She shook her head slowly, plopping down on the couch. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” he tried, sitting down next to her.

She peeked up at him with big, sad eyes. “I got in trouble at recess,” she muttered in a little voice that nearly made his heart break. “I had to go sit in the office.”

“I see.” He prompted her to tell him what had happened, but she just shook her head again, staring abjectly at the lifeless TV, lower lip quivering a little. Aria struck him as a child who didn’t get in trouble a lot, and it seemed like she was taking it kind of hard. Though, he was also having trouble figuring out what she might have done. She was always so mild-mannered and kind, and based on his own time babysitting her and comments Felix had made when they talked, she didn’t misbehave all that much at home either.

Aria’s mood didn’t improve much as the day wore on. She didn’t seem very inclined to play with her toys as she might usually, she just watched cartoons curled up on the couch. Her head perked up when she heard the tell-tale sound of the key rattling in the lock as Felix made his way inside at a quarter to six.

The man’s face was carefully neutral when he came into sight from the hallway, taking a detour through the kitchen to set two pizza boxes on the counter before making his way over to them. Aria squirmed in her seat, looking forlornly down at her lap. Felix, face still blank and unreadable, sat down lightly on the coffee table across from her. “Hey, Pumpkin.”

Aria didn’t respond, blinking up at him with sad puppy dog eyes. The feeling of being an unwelcome observer washed Sylvain, but Felix didn’t tell him to leave, so he pretended to be very interested in The Amazing World of Gumball as he tried not to seem like the whole thing was awkward.

“Is there anything you want to talk to me about?” he asked, voice a mix of firm and non-judgmental that was completely foreign to Sylvain, and it struck Sylvain that Felix was actually, genuinely concerned to hear Aria’s side of the story before he drew any conclusions. Something like that would have never happened in Sylvain’s house growing up. His father was judge, jury, and executioner, and once his mind was made up, he would hear no evidence that contradicted him.

She hesitated, just for a second, before muttering, “I got in trouble at recess.”

“Mm,” he hummed, expression unwavering. “What happened?”

“I pushed Xavier down.”

Felix nodded slowly. “Why did you do that?” Still no judgment. And even more amazing to Sylvain, no anger.

“He was throwing mulch and my friends and I. We told Mrs. Curry, but she just said to ignore him.” Unlike before, where her voice had been soft and morose, recalling the events from recess seemed to have made her angry all over again. She crossed her arms, indignant as she continued her story. “He didn’t stop, and we tried to tell Mrs. Curry again, and do you know what she said?” Felix shook his head, just a hint of amusement in his eyes at her affronted tone. “She said that if a boy is mean to you, it means he _likes_ you.”

It took a lot for Sylvain to hold back a laugh at her dramatic eye roll and the absolute disdain in her voice.

“Mrs. Curry wouldn’t make him stop, so I did.”

“And Mrs. Curry made you go to the office?” She nodded. “Did Xavier have to go to the office too?”

“No,” she said a huff that was a dead ringer for her father’s. “It was really unfair.”

“What did Miss Martritz do when you went back to class?” he wondered. Sylvain froze. Miss Martritz? No, there was no way. There had to be tons of Miss Martritz’s who taught kindergarten in the city. Yeah, sure… (Sylvain silently cursed himself for not remembering what school Mercie taught at, and made a mental note to ask her later.)

“She made us both sit at the Get-Along Table and apologize to each other for being mean.” And, yeah, that certainly sounded like something Mercie would do. “And neither of us get to play at recess tomorrow.”

Felix sighed lightly. “I’m sorry Xavier was mean to you, but we can’t solve our problems with violence. There is more than one teacher on the playground at recess, right?” She nodded. “If Mrs. Curry won’t listen to you, maybe you can go talk to another teacher.”

She was silent for a long moment. “Am I in trouble, Daddy?”

His face softened. “I think you got in enough trouble at school,” he allowed. “Go wash your hands for dinner. I brought home pizza.” She ran off to do as she was told, and Felix deflated the second she was out of sight. “With any luck, _Xavier_ learned his lesson and this won’t be a problem again.”

Sylvain laughed, still kind of in awe at the stark difference in the way Felix talked to Aria vs. how his own father had talked to him. “Is it bad that I don’t think Aria was in the wrong there?”

Felix’s lips tugged up in a smirk. “Believe me, telling her not to hit the jerk if he picks on her again took a _lot_ of restraint.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m telling her not to defend herself if someone is harassing her, but at the same time, I know that when someone who’s getting bullied fights back, its usually not the bully that winds up getting in trouble.” Why did it feel like he knew that from experience? Sylvain decided better than to ask. “And that bullshit ‘boys pick on you because they like you.’ That whole mindset needs to fucking die already.”

“Yeah, it’s dumb,” Sylvain agreed.

Felix pushed himself to his feet, heading back for the kitchen. He glanced back at Sylvain as the redhead gathered up his things. “Do you… um. Do you want some pizza?”

Any lingering anxiety that Felix was still upset about Hilda’s little _helping hand_ fizzled out in that moment. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

The pink that colored Felix’s cheeks was adorable, in the split second Sylvain got to enjoy it before the younger man turned away with a scowl. “Don’t mention it.”


	9. Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: toxic relationship dynamics

“See, I _told_ you that you were overreacting,” Hilda triumphantly bragged, a smile of smug vindication plastered over her perfectly pink lips after listening to Sylvain recounting what had ended up happening with Felix. Khalid, who she’d drug out to drinks with them for the first time in a long time, nudged her shoulder in silent warning to reel it in, but she ignored him. “He’s so hot for you, did you really think he was going to hold something _I_ did against you forever?”

Sylvain glared, regretting telling her anything as he realized that his hopes that she might have learned something from what happened dashed to pieces. “This doesn’t change anything, Hilda,” he warned. “Stay out of my relationships.”

“He still won’t even talk to Hilda unless it’s strictly work-related,” Khalid noted, green eyes shining with amusement.

She rolled her eyes. “He’ll get over it.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he laughed, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “Take it from someone who knows; the dude can hold a grudge. Like, when we were dating in college, he told me about this guy he went to high school with. In Felix’s senior year, after everyone found out his girlfriend was pregnant, he overheard this guy call her a slut and ended up getting suspended for decking him. We saw him one day on campus, _three years later_ , and Felix looked like he still wanted to punch the guy.”

“That’s kind of sweet, though,” Mercedes mused dreamily, “even though they’d broken up, he still cared enough about her that he would have defended her after all that time.”

“That’s Felix for you,” Khalid agreed.

“Speaking of,” Sylvain muttered, turning toward the blonde. “What school do you teach at?”

She smiled patiently. “Clearwater.” He opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but she cut him off with a light giggle. “And, yes, Aria is in my class.”

Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish. “How did you know that’s what I was going to ask?”

“She talks about you a lot,” she noted. “She even drew a picture of you a couple weeks ago.” She pulled out her phone, scrolling quickly through her photos. The picture she showed them was a crude crayon drawing of two stick figures, one small with black pigtails, the other tall with a mess of orange zigzags on the top of his head. They were smiling and holding hands. Underneath was a caption in very over-sized, very kindergarten handwriting: ME AND MI BABESITR SILVAN!

“Wow,” Hilda snorted, “she really captured your likeness, Sylvain. It’s like there are two of you.”

“My favorite part is the hair,” Khalid agreed. “Very lifelike.”

He ignored them, heart feeling like it was going to burst for reasons he couldn’t quite name. The fact that Aria not only talked about him to her teacher, but went as far as to draw a picture of him for an assignment… It felt good.

“You’ve known and you never said anything?” he huffed, changing the subject lest Hilda notice his reaction to the picture and find something else to tease him about.

“I was waiting to see how long it took you to figure it out,” she giggled. “You tend to be very oblivious about things that don’t immediately concern you.”

“Damn, Mercie, why you gotta call me out like that?” She patted his arm with mock sympathy.

~OoO~

A pattern emerged in the following weeks. Felix would bring home takeout one night every week or two and would casually ask Sylvain if he wanted to stay for dinner, always pointedly looking anywhere else but at the redhead, insisting there was plenty. Sylvain would casually accept, slotting himself in at the table. Felix never offered when he made dinner himself, and Sylvain never asked, happy with just the one small step that the other man was comfortable taking.

Aria seemed more than happy to have the company, and even after spending the whole afternoon with him, never seemed to exhaust her supply of things to talk about. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but Sylvain couldn’t help but notice the occasional small smile on Felix’s face as he watched the two of them.

As November wore on, Aria began excitedly retelling them the things she’d learned about Thanksgiving at school. “We painted Mayflowers today,” she told them over Chinese takeout the week before Thanksgiving. “Skylar painted hers pink. Ms. Martritz said it was okay, but I thought it was kind of silly. Ships aren’t pink.”

“What color did you paint yours?” Felix wondered, the corners of his lips tugging up.

“Orange.” She made a face at her fried rice. “Anderson was hogging all of the brown.”

“I’m sure it looks great,” he assured her.

“Yeah,” she allowed, very seriously, “it does.” She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of sweet-and-sour chicken. “When is Thanksgiving?”

“Next Thursday.”

“Are we having turkey this year?”

Felix smiled, and it was some ever-so-slight sadness. “Yeah. Annie’s coming over Thursday morning to help me cook it, and Uncle Glenn and Miklan are coming over for dinner.” He seemed less than pleased at that last part, but Aria didn’t seem to notice, practically bouncing in her seat.

She grinned up at Sylvain. “We didn’t get to have turkey last year,” she explained helpfully, “because Daddy didn’t know how to make one.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Felix barely holding in an exasperated sigh, likely already resigned to the fact that there’s no stopping a five-year-old from blabbing things about their parents.

“Oh,” Sylvain said, trying not to laugh. “Well, I don’t think I know how to make a turkey, either. Do you?” She shook her head with a giggle. “So I don’t think we can be too hard on him.”

“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” Felix muttered, changing the subject. “Do you have any plans?”

“Well, not until Sunday,” he mused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Some friends and I are doing a Friendsgiving, since my parents decided to visit my grandma in Vermont for Thanksgiving this year.”

“You’re gonna be alone on Thanksgiving?” Aria asked, eyes big and sad. He blinked down at her, caught off guard. “Daddy, can Sylvain have Thanksgiving with us so he won’t be alone?”

Felix flushed slightly, unnoticed by the little girl staring at him with pleading eyes. “I don’t want to impose-” Sylvain began.

“Don’t worry about it,” Felix dismissed, meeting his eyes evenly, just the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Come have dinner with us.”

How could he say no?

~OoO~

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Felix sighed forlornly, leaning heavily on the counter top. Annette smiled patiently, busy somehow buttering underneath the turkey’s skin. It was something he should have been doing, really, but Annette had the habit of taking over when Felix struggled with the cooking, fondly deeming him helpless. “Why did I invite him?”

“Maybe because you like him?” she suggested helpfully. He groaned. “You’re allowed to like people, Felix.”

“I like plenty of people,” he huffed.

“Right. And he’s one of them.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea. He’s got a pretty… big reputation.”

“And?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “People aren’t always their reputations. Based on everything you’ve told me about him, he seems nice. I think you’re just looking for excuses not to like him because of your insecurities about dating.”

“Why does everyone think I have issues with dating?” he grumbled.

“Felix,” she said, exasperated, “you’re not exactly subtle. It’s pretty obvious that you’re worried about how bringing someone new into your lives will affect Aria. You’re afraid that she’ll feel abandoned if things don’t work out, just like you’re afraid she’ll feel abandoned by her mom when she gets older.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off with a knowing smile. “You’re much more open and talkative when you’re drunk.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I really told you all that?” If he had, he certainly didn’t remember.

“And then some.” He practically shuddered at the thought. “Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me stuff this bird?” Hoping the distraction of shoving globs of dressing into a turkey carcass would put a hold on the conversation, he did as she directed him to do. Unfortunately, Annette was capable of multitasking. “I think you should go for it, Felix.”

He shot her a sidelong glance, pausing wrist-deep in the bird. “You think so?”

She met him with soft eyes. “I know Aria is, like, your entire world, but you need to focus on you too, Felix.”

The part of him that wanted to refute her claim was quickly silenced, because, yeah. She was right. Nearly very decision he’d made for the past five years had been weighed against her best interests. Majoring in marketing because it was one of the fields his high school guidance counselor said there were a lot of jobs in, one that he could see himself doing for the foreseeable future. Ending things with her mother, despite the pressure that splitting their family would be detrimental to her, because he didn’t want her to grow up with parents who were only together because of her, not because they loved each other. And in that same breath, ensuring he got full custody, a tedious process considering unmarried men have basically no legal parental rights by default. Moving over five hundred miles away from his family and almost everything either of them had ever known because the promise of a job that would let them live comfortably.

“Felix?” Annette said, cutting into his thoughts. His wrist was still buried in the turkey, and he hadn’t moved for long enough that it was beginning to look indecent. “You in there, buddy?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, finally removing his hand and continuing with the stuffing. “Maybe you’re right. I dunno. Sometimes it feels like… if I’m doing something for me, then I’m not putting her first.”

“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” she said patiently. “You can do things that make you happy while still prioritizing her needs. It sounds like she really likes Sylvain, and it’s not like she’s unaware of the concept that Daddy likes girls _and_ boys.” Which was true enough. She was old enough that she remembered Khalid, and Felix had never tried to hide their relationship from her.

“I’ll… try.”

“Good.”

~OoO~  
  


Sylvain arrived a little before six that evening, a bottle of decent red wine tucked under his arm, letting himself in as Felix had requested before. The warm aroma of turkey greeted him. He knocked on the door frame before closing the door behind him, announcing his presence. With a last run of his fingers through his hair, he headed down the short hallway to the living room.

The table that usually sat in the kitchen had been pulled out, the couch pushed aside a bit to make room for the chairs. There was even a fourth one that Sylvain had never seen before – it usually only had three in the kitchen, as one side of the table sat flush with the wall. He could see Felix’s back in the kitchen through the cutout, intently stirring something on the stove.

Aria was on the couch, Felix’s cellphone almost comically large in her hands. She was in the middle of a video call, talking animatedly to someone, a woman’s voice answering. “Oh, Daddy, Sylvain’s here!” she announced loudly, stopping mid-sentence as she noticed him standing there.

“Ooh, who’s Sylvain?” the woman she was talking to asked. Felix came scurrying out of the kitchen, darting past Sylvain to get to Aria.

“Oh, he’s my babysitter-” Aria managed to get in before Felix appeared in front of her.

“Our company’s here,” he said. “Say goodbye to Mommy, it’s time to hang up.”

“Okay. Bye, Mommy. Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby.” There was a loud, theatrical kiss sound before Aria offered up the phone. Sylvain couldn’t see the face on the screen from the angle he was standing at. “You really are no fun, Felix,” the woman scolded playfully.

Felix rolled his eyes, but there was humor in it. “Happy Thanksgiving, Thea.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.” He hung up the call.

“Sorry I’m a little early,” Sylvain offered lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine.” He shot a cheerful wave at Aria, who was already turning her attention to Pocahontas playing on the TV (her idea, no doubt, since they’d learned about the Native Americans and the pilgrims in school), before following Felix into the kitchen.

“I brought some wine,” he said, holding it up even though Felix had his back to him. “I know you said I didn’t have to bring anything, but I felt weird not…”

“Oh, thanks… just sit it there.” He gestured to a spot on the counter, out of the way, and Sylvain did as he was asked.

“Do you need help with anything?” He craned his neck a little to get a look at Felix’s face, and to his surprise, a there was a soft, half-smile there.

“No, it’s just about done. Like I mentioned last week, my friend Annette came over to help. Well, I say help. I mostly just stayed out of the way and she did her thing.”

“Well, it smells great, whoever cooked it,” Sylvain joked, chancing a step closer, leaning against the counter to make it look casual, even though they both knew it wasn’t. They were mere inches apart, and Sylvain fought the urge to reach out and tuck the strand of hair that had fallen loose from the man’s ponytail behind his ear. “Your friend didn’t want to stay for dinner?”

“No, she had other plans with her family.”

Before Sylvain could say anything else, the door shut with a slam, and Felix jerked away from Sylvain as if electricity had passed between them. An uneven thumping sound meandered down the hallway. “Glenn,” Felix sighed, heading out of the kitchen.

Sure enough, Glenn rounded the corner, grinning broadly, even as he leaned heavily on a simple, black cane. Sylvain had noticed his limp before, of course, but he’d never known the man to need a cane. Not for the first time, he wondered what had happened to him to cause it, though didn’t really know the guy well enough to ask.

A step behind Glenn was Miklan. He shoved his way past his boyfriend, muttering under his breath, “would you move, fucking cripple?” Sylvain didn’t miss the way Felix glared after him. Glenn, though, only rolled his eyes, shooting back with a scathing, “fuck off, asshole.”

Without fanfare, Miklan plopped down on the opposite side of the couch from Aria, snatching up the remote despite her indignant, “hey!” and turning the channel. “I was watching that, Miklan.” He ignored her.

Felix glared at Glenn, as if to say, _control your jerk_. Glenn sighed and made his way over, sitting with some difficulty on the arm of the couch and whispering something in his ear. A moment later, Miklan huffed and tossed the remote back to Aria. With a knowing look to Felix, Sylvain planted himself between her and his brother.

“If you’re going to make me sit here and watch this stupid movie,” Miklan grumbled at Glenn, “at least go get me a beer or something.” Resigned, Glenn pushed himself back up and headed toward the kitchen. Miklan’s attention fell on Sylvain. “And what are you doing here? _I_ don’t even want to be here?”

“Mom and Dad went to visit Grandma and Grandpa G in Vermont. Felix asked if I wanted to having Thanksgiving with all of you.” Miklan snorted. “If you don’t want to be here, why make the rest of us suffer?” The elbow to the ribs he got was almost worth it.

“Glenn wouldn’t shut up about it. I’m here because I’m not going to get laid otherwise.” Sylvain shot a glance at Aria, who thankfully didn’t seem like she was paying much attention. “So, I guess we’re really both here for the same reason.”

Resentment roiled in Sylvain’s stomach, but he didn’t have time to think of a retort before Glenn reappeared, irately shoving a can of beer into Miklan’s hands. Miklan didn’t even thank him, just grunted. Sylvain found himself at a loss. Why the fuck was Glenn even with a pig like his brother?

He watched the two of them, trying to riddle it out, but it just didn’t seem to make any sense. All Miklan did was be his usual rude, nasty self, and all Glenn did was take it with a mixture of irritation and resentment.

Before he could even hope to find an answer, Felix announced from the kitchen that dinner was ready if everyone was ready to eat.


End file.
